


Staying At Home Together

by Feriku



Series: Together [2]
Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kaz loves social distancing, Living Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Quarantine, Rated T for too much cuddling, Secrets, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Tension, stay at home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 31,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26443945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feriku/pseuds/Feriku
Summary: Quarantine has lifted, but with new social restrictions in place, Wylan and Jesper decide to stay together a little longer. Yet secrets still divide them, and their unacknowledged feelings make living together more complicated than they expected...
Relationships: Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck
Series: Together [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922224
Comments: 274
Kudos: 405





	1. Chapter 1

Even after a whole two weeks of living together, leading Wylan into his room felt strange. This was different than being forced to share a space they’d intended to be a temporary hideout. They’d chosen to stay together this time. It felt… more intimate. Like Jesper was inviting Wylan into his life.

Which didn’t sound entirely bad.

“Here we go, merchling. Home sweet home.”

“Thank you for letting me stay with you,” Wylan said, his expression shy as he followed him inside.

Jesper snorted. “Come on, neither of us wanted to stay alone right now.”

After their quarantine ended, he’d been prepared to go back to his normal life, even though that would mean no longer waking up to Wylan in his arms or sharing meals together. When he learned about the additional restrictions due to the plague concerns, however—being told that they’d have to stay at home as much as possible and only go out for essential business—the thought of being alone felt stifling.

He’d never be able to do it. He didn’t trust himself. Nothing could distract Jesper enough to keep him inside. Fortunately, it had become clear on their walk back to the Barrel that Wylan didn’t want to be alone either.

Who’d have thought being quarantined together would turn out like this? Jesper was starting to feel things for Wylan he never expected to feel for a merchling—and maybe not for anyone, not this growing desire to spend his life alongside one specific person. Living with Wylan for two weeks had changed something in him.

Jesper looked around and winced. He wasn’t an organizer; he threw things wherever he found space. Clothes and supplies and even a few books lay scattered around the room in no particular order.

He should have gone on ahead to tidy up before bringing Wylan there.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said.

Wylan shook his head. “I don’t mind.”

Good.

They stood together awkwardly. Jesper shifted from foot to foot. He’d invited plenty of people over in the past for various reasons, but actually having someone move in was a new experience.

“Can I sit down?” Wylan asked.

“Sure, of course.” Jesper waved his hand toward the worn couch. “You don’t need to ask for permission. You live here now.”

Wylan blushed.

Oh, maybe that was too strong. “I mean, temporarily,” Jesper said. “You know, until all this…” Wait, but then it was like he wanted to get rid of him. “I mean, not that I’m going to kick you out…” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. None of that had come out the way he wanted it to.

This was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. Things had been so natural back at the shack. Here, it felt like their dynamic had shifted.

So Jesper fell back on his favorite tried and true strategy. Flirting.

“Feel free to use the bed as much as you want, too.” He winked. “A devilishly handsome sharpshooter comes with it as a bonus if you’re interested.”

Wylan blushed scarlet.

Actually, that… raised a good point. How were they going to sleep? In the shack, there had only been one bed. Once they stopped taking turns on the floor, sharing the bed was the most comfortable option. Here, though, the couch would serve as a fine bed. Wylan might decide to sleep there, now that the necessity of sharing was gone.

Well, that was up to him. It was Jesper’s bed, so he’d take it and see where Wylan decided to spend the night.

“Okay,” he said after taking a long breath, “we’ll need food, and I want to check in with Kaz. Anything you need to go take care of, or you want to stay here?”

“I’ll stay here,” Wylan said.

Interesting, he’d half-expected the other boy to want to stay by his side. Maybe he didn’t consider it “essential” for both of them to leave. He was fussy about complying with the restrictions, after all. Or maybe… Jesper waggled his eyebrows. “Want some privacy to get better-acquainted with my personal life, huh?”

“No!”

“I’ll make noise when I return so you won’t get caught snooping.”

“I’m not going to snoop,” Wylan said with a pout.

Jesper chuckled and sauntered out the door. He was teasing. Mostly.

But he did wonder if Wylan would snoop.

#

Wylan eased himself onto the couch as the door closed behind Jesper. This was the first time he’d been alone in two weeks. It felt strange. Even stranger to be alone in someone else's home, with the confidence that his father didn’t know where he was.

All the same, he’d feel better with Jesper there to protect him. Alone, he felt small and vulnerable, aware of how defenseless he’d be if someone broke in.

He took a deep breath and let it out. This was ridiculous. He didn’t need to be with Jesper all the time.

Still, though… it was nice to have someone to rely on.

On the other hand, it was easier to relax and adjust to his new surroundings while he was alone. He felt like he didn’t belong there… but Jesper wanted him to stay, so he supposed he did. Just as long as he didn’t impose on Jesper’s life so much that the other boy changed his mind and asked him to leave.

He looked around, curious about the place despite his honest intention not to snoop. There was one main room, with a single door leading… Wylan hesitated for a long time, but finally forced himself to stand up despite his sense that he was doing something wrong and walked to the door. He opened it and peered inside at what looked like a washroom of some sort. He quickly closed the door again and returned to the couch.

Deep breaths. This was irrational. Jesper wouldn’t be angry with him for looking around. He’d all but invited him to snoop.

Wylan had spent too long in a home where any mistake or misstep might put him in danger. To be in someone else’s home and be told he should relax and act like it was his didn’t make any sense.

Still, the room was so very, very _Jesper_ that the more he looked around, the safer he felt. Everything, from the disorganization to the choice of furnishings—wait, did one of those books on the floor have erotic art on the cover? He was absolutely not going to take a closer look to find out, because if Jesper got home and caught him looking at _that_ , he’d never live it down.

He settled back against the couch with a sigh. They had a lot of things to figure out, but maybe everything would be fine.

#

Kaz was in about as bad a mood as Jesper expected when he first heard the restrictions. “Everything’s been put on hold,” he said. “This had better end soon.”

“I’m just glad to be out of quarantine,” Jesper said with a laugh.

Kaz nodded. Then his eyes narrowed.

“What?” Jesper asked.

“You’re standing a foot too close.”

He opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything. Yes, he’d heard something about staying six feet apart from other people while out on essential business, and he did get the odd impression on his way there that Kaz was actually enforcing these restrictions among the Dregs, but he hadn’t expected to be reprimanded for not obeying to the letter. Wylan would be so proud.

If both of them agreed on something, maybe they had a point. Jesper sighed and put another foot of distance between himself and Kaz. “By the way, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

The other boy raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

“I spent a lot of time with Wylan while we were in quarantine. He’s smart. Really smart.” Jesper once again saw the gun disassembled into all those little pieces until Wylan expertly put them back together. “I bet he’s a lot better at demo than you’ve been giving him credit for.”

“And?” Kaz asked.

Jesper hesitated. He wasn’t even sure why he was saying this. Once they did the job, Wylan would either prove his demo skills or not. It didn’t matter if Kaz was expecting it ahead of time.

Yet being told his greater role was _hostage_ couldn’t have done much to help Wylan’s self-esteem, especially since Van Eck had tried to kill him. And those rare moments when Wylan showed self-confidence were precious—especially compared to the flustered way he’d shrink back whenever he expected to fail.

“Give him a chance,” Jesper said. “Don’t act like you assume he’s just passable at demo.”

Kaz snorted. “Those two weeks really did a number on you, didn’t they?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Fine,” he said, “if Wylan is so good, I’ve got a job for him.”

“I can pass the message on,” Jesper said. This probably wasn’t the best time to say he and Wylan were living together. “What’s the job?”

“See if he can make a silent bomb.”

Jesper stared at him. “A what?”

“You heard me.”

“A _silent_ bomb?”

“Sometimes infiltration requires breaking through heavy fortifications,” Kaz said with a cool smile. “If he can develop a bomb that won’t draw attention yet still has the necessary explosive power, then I’ll be impressed.”

“Great,” Jesper said. “This is your idea of giving him a chance to prove himself—an impossible request?”

“Take it or leave it.”

He should have known better than to assume Kaz would actually cooperate. Jesper sighed and turned away. He just hoped Wylan wouldn’t be too upset with him.


	2. Chapter 2

Jesper stocked up on food and other necessities and then returned home. Inside, Wylan was still on the couch, but at least he looked more relaxed. He straightened with a smile as Jesper closed the door.

“How did it go?”

“Good enough. I got us some real food.” Jesper set down the things he’d purchased. After two weeks of living on rations, even the few things he’d bought would be a treat. Strange though it seemed, he was looking forward to sitting down for a proper meal with Wylan, too.

“Did you talk to Kaz?”

“Yeah. He’s his usual self.” He quickly outlined what he’d discussed with Kaz—and mentioned how Kaz was enforcing the restrictions, which got a surprised smile out of Wylan. Then Jesper hesitated. “And, uh… Kaz said he wanted some demo work done, but I’m not sure if he was being serious or not.”

Wylan frowned. “Why?”

“He asked if you could make a… silent bomb.”

The other boy didn’t look quite as put out by the request as Jesper expected, only puzzled. “What does he want a silent bomb for?”

To make things difficult for them. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

Jesper shrugged. “Breaking and entering without making enough noise to alert people.”

“Then it doesn’t have to be a bomb.” Wylan’s gaze was distant. “A strong enough acid could do as much damage.”

“He said a bomb,” Jesper said, not sure it was a good thing to ignore Kaz’s instructions.

“It might get the job done,” Wylan said, seemingly more to himself than to Jesper. “But we’d need to transport it. And it would need to cover a large enough area. A projectile? Hmm, maybe glass casing?”

Despite his misgivings, Jesper couldn’t help the fond smile that crept onto his face. Wylan was off in his own little world. Whether or not Kaz would be pleased with the final result, their demo expert certainly thought he could make _something._ Jesper grabbed some paper and a pen and handed them to Wylan, who almost immediately started sketching out a potential design for his not-a-bomb.

Wylan looked truly comfortable again, with a hint of the same confidence he showed when he disassembled and reassembled Jesper’s gun.

“You just tell me what you need,” Jesper said.

#

By evening, Wylan felt pretty good. Once he adjusted to his new surroundings, the familiarity of living with Jesper from their two weeks in quarantine had returned. His plans for an acid projectile were starting to come together, too.

Kaz cared about results more than exact details. If it got the job done, he probably wouldn’t care that it wasn’t a bomb. It would need to be good, though. This was Wylan’s chance to finally impress him—and Jesper too, as an added bonus.

“It’s nice to be back in civilization.” Jesper pushed aside his plate from dinner and grinned across the table at Wylan. “Happy to have real food again?”

“Yes,” Wylan said.

“Nothing like fancy mercher fare, of course.”

He opened his mouth to say he’d rather have a simple meal with Jesper than a fancy meal without him, but the words got caught in his throat. It was how he felt, but it was too much to say out loud. “I don’t mind,” he said instead.

Jesper chuckled.

Things were going well. The topic of gambling hadn’t come up, either. Maybe Jesper assumed all the gambling dens would be closed due to the social restrictions, or maybe the urge just hadn’t gotten too strong yet.

“Guess we should call it a night,” Jesper said.

Wylan nodded. Although it was early in the evening, he was tired from returning to the Barrel and moving in with Jesper—not to mention organizing all of the supplies Jesper brought home, much to the other boy’s amusement.

Wait—they’d never discussed sleeping arrangements. Jesper’s earlier joke didn’t count; he said things like that all the time.

The couch looked comfortable enough. Sleeping separately here would be much easier than at the shack. Plus, Jesper probably realized after his trip to see Kaz that his friends weren’t dead, so he wouldn’t need comfort at night. It was only Wylan who still did, Wylan with his nightmares and insecurities, who had found that the closeness of someone he trusted could ward off his fears.

He bit his lip and glanced at Jesper, who had sat down on the edge of his bed.

Jesper didn’t say a word. He didn’t invite him to join him. Once, Wylan would have assumed that meant he wasn’t wanted. But he was starting to understand how Jesper worked. The tall boy loved to flirt Wylan into a blushing, stammering mess, but he never truly pressured him. He wasn’t the sort of person who would do that, and it seemed to lurk in the back of his mind that he might make Wylan uncomfortable if he went too far. The lack of an invitation to bed wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Which meant the lack of a dazzling introduction to the couch might be quite a good thing.

Wylan hesitated. The thought alone flustered him, but maybe he needed to be a little bolder. He could always pretend he didn’t know there was an extra blanket for the couch, or some other excuse, if he was rejected.

He walked to the bed. “Is it still okay?”

Jesper met his gaze with a smile and patted the mattress alongside him. “For you, always.”

#

A light tapping against the window woke Jesper up. He blinked blearily until he made out the dim shape of a familiar figure silhouetted against the night. He slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Wylan, who still slept peacefully alongside him.

He’d be right outside if Wylan woke up. Let him sleep.

Jesper crept to the window and opened it.

“How’ve you been?” Inej asked.

He lifted a finger to his lips and climbed outside to join her on the roof. “I don’t want to wake up Wylan.”

Her eyes widened and she looked toward the window. “That’s _Wylan_ in your bed?”

He wasn’t sure which stung more, that she’d assumed he found some random person to spend the night with despite the social restrictions, or that the thought of him sleeping with Wylan shocked her so much.

“Things changed a lot while you two were quarantined together, didn’t they?”

“We learned to get along.” And speaking of which, Wylan wouldn’t be pleased if he woke up and saw the two of them sitting right next to each other. Jesper cleared his throat. “Aren’t we supposed to be six feet apart?”

Inej arched her eyebrow, but put more distance between them. “I see you’ve already talked to Kaz.”

That was right, Kaz wouldn’t approve either. Jesper frowned out at the night sky. Normally it would be Kaz’s approval that came to his mind first. Instead, he’d immediately thought of Wylan.

“So,” she said, “you and Wylan?”

“Like I said, we learned to get along.”

“Quite well, it seems.”

Oh. He shook his head. “It’s not like that!” She thought he and Wylan were… _together._ “We’re just friends. I think.” In his memory, Wylan’s mouth brushed his after their bet, his body pressing closer, his lips parting beneath Jesper’s to accept his tongue. “Probably.”

Inej looked skeptical. “Shouldn’t you figure that out _before_ you start sharing a bed?”

“It’s complicated,” he said. “Wy and I… didn’t want to be alone yet. So he’s staying with me for a while. We’re just in the same bed because…”

Because why? Because Wylan wanted comfort from his nightmares? Because he thought Jesper still needed company? Because he wanted to touch Jesper as badly as Jesper wanted to touch him, but wouldn’t say so?

Jesper’s body burned with the need to kiss Wylan again, to go back to that bed and press him against the mattress instead of lying chastely alongside him. But more than anything, he needed to know how things stood between them, and he didn’t want to ruin what they had by asking.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Like I said, it’s complicated.”

“Things will work out,” Inej said.

Jesper managed a half-smile and rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope you’re right.”

Saints, it would be so much easier if he could sort out his own feelings, too. When he thought about being in a relationship with Wylan, the idea of such commitment made him want to run, but at the same time, his heart ached with pain as he imagined leaving Wylan behind.

“How have things been in the Barrel?” he asked, to get his mind off of the complicated matter of Wylan.

They talked for what felt like far too short of a time, and then Inej was on her way across the rooftops to disappear into the night. Jesper returned inside with many of his lingering anxieties quelled, but new insecurities closer to the surface than ever.

He closed the window and tiptoed back to the bed. Wylan was still asleep.

Jesper crawled under the blankets and rolled over to face him. His heart skipped a beat. The sight of those tousled red-gold curls right next to his face struck him with a fierce, deep longing he wasn’t sure how to interpret.

He wanted Wylan physically, he’d accepted that a while ago.

He wanted Wylan’s company, he’d learned that over the course of their quarantine.

But this deep desire—a want, a _need_ —for something so simple was new and unfamiliar. His heart longed for this same sight to greet him again every morning and night. It was too fast, too soon, and he didn’t know what he could say that wouldn’t mess up everything.

Jesper rolled onto his back with a sigh and wondered what he was going to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Adjusting to unfamiliar surroundings normally would have made it difficult for Wylan to sleep, but whenever he shifted during the night, Jesper was there. A warm brush of skin, an accidental bump with his foot, little touches that reminded Wylan where he was and who he was with.

He was safe.

In the morning, Wylan blearily struggled out of a deep sleep, unsure what had woken him. The bed shifted, and he faintly realized there was empty space alongside him.

“Sleep, merchling.” Jesper’s whisper was a warm rush of breath against his ear. “I need to head out for a few minutes, but I’ll be back soon. You don’t have to get up.”

Was this a gambling thing? No, early morning gambling didn’t sound right. Probably had a job to do for Kaz or realized they were missing some supplies. He’d told him to sleep, and Wylan had no reason to doubt him.

Disconcerted by the too-empty bed, Wylan edged over until he found Jesper’s side, still warm from where he’d lay only a few minutes ago. In such a short period of time, even the scent of his hair had come to mean safety. Strange, that.

Head firmly on Jesper’s pillow, Wylan fell back asleep.

#

The streets of Ketterdam were as empty as when Jesper and Wylan returned from quarantine. The familiar fear crept through Jesper again, and he fought back to urge to seek out each of the others to make sure they were okay. Kaz would have told him if anything happened, and with the stadwatch keeping an eye out to make sure people were only on the streets for essential business, Jesper didn’t have too much time to spare.

He quickly got everything he needed and returned home.

Although he opened the door as quietly as he could, Wylan stirred and started to shift in bed anyway.

“It’s just me, merchling,” he said.

The way Wylan’s tension immediately drained away gave Jesper an odd rush of happiness. He liked being a source of safety for Wylan. He liked knowing the other boy had no discomfort sleeping while Jesper was awake and took his presence as a sign he could relax. When they’d first been quarantined together, he’d thought Wylan was at least a little bit afraid of him. Things had changed a lot.

Jesper took a closer look and smirked.

Not only was Wylan asleep, but he was also draped halfway across Jesper’s side of the bed. This settled once and for all which of them kept crossing the gap during the night to cuddle close.

Teasing comments formed in the back of his mind, and Jesper idly sorted through them to avoid anything too mean, too lewd, or too likely to make Wylan _stop_ snuggling up against him during the night, because that was a treat he was not about to lose unless he had to.

Of course, waking up with someone pressed so close brought its own complications, but he’d deal with that another time.

For the moment, he tiptoed to the adjacent room and began his preparations for Wylan’s surprise. As he worked, he rolled up his sleeves. Too bad Wylan was asleep. If he was awake, he’d be tossing about shy glances at Jesper’s bared arms. He wasn’t nearly as subtle as he thought he was.

Once Jesper finished, he sat on the edge the bed and watched Wylan for a moment, still conflicted over the confusing, tender feelings from the night before.

Wylan stirred and sat up. “Good morning.” He stretched out his arms and yawned.

Jesper’s heart skipped a beat. He’d surely seen Wylan yawn before. There was no reason a _yawn_ should make him feel this way. But it did. It was so _cute._ If he had Wylan’s artistic talents, he’d draw this sight to keep it with him forever.

“Morning, merchling,” he said, a second too late.

Wylan didn’t appear to notice the delay. He looked around the room. “Is there something I can have for breakfast?”

No, he was going to let his merchling starve. Jesper bit back his sarcasm. Wylan still seemed uncomfortable about living with him, and needling him over it would only make it worse. Besides, he had more important things to say. “Aren’t you going to ask where I went this morning?”

“Should I?”

“Yes, because I went out to get a surprise for you.”

“For me?” Wylan blinked. “What sort of surprise?”

“I’ll show you.” Jesper held out his hand.

Wylan hesitated, which hurt a little, but then he reached out and blushed the moment his fingers curled around Jesper’s.

“I know you’ve been dying to hold my hand,” Jesper said.

“Don’t tell me this is the surprise.”

He laughed and led him to the adjacent room. Then he opened the door wide to reveal the tub he’d filled with hot water while Wylan slept. “Here you are, merchling—your bath.”

“My bath?” Wylan sounded baffled.

“Don’t you remember?” Jesper asked. “You said the thing you were looking forward to the most once we got out of quarantine was a bath.”

Wylan’s mouth opened, but he didn’t say anything.

“So… here it is.” Jesper had expected a much more enthusiastic response. Had he done something wrong? He thought it would make Wylan happy.

“You got a bath ready for me while I was sleeping?”

“Yes.”

“If you’d woken me up, I’d have helped.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“I wanted to,” Jesper said, “and the longer you stand out here arguing with me, the colder that water is going to get.”

Wylan took half a step into the room. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Take your bath, merchling.”

“But it’s your room and you did all the work—”

There was only one solution. Jesper smirked. “If you want to share, I won’t complain.”

“I didn’t mean that!” the other boy yelped.

“Well the bath is for you, so the only way you’re getting me in that bath is if we go in together.”

And he wanted that, oh, he wanted that. Not even necessarily to touch Wylan—although he did want that, a lot—but just to enjoy the warmth and intimacy and closeness. It would probably involve a lot of splashing and giggling until Wylan was completely at ease. He liked seeing Wylan flustered, but he didn’t like seeing him uncomfortable.

“Fine,” Wylan said, “I’ll take my bath.” He stepped into the room, then abruptly turned around. “Ah! I, um… don’t want to be a bother, but…”

“You’re not a bother,” Jesper said. “What is it?”

“Could I… borrow a change of clothes?”

Jesper blinked, then walked over to the drawers where he kept his clothes. During quarantine, they’d made do with what they had, and it hadn’t occurred to him that Wylan hadn’t brought anything to change into. They’d come straight here together once they got back to the Barrel.

He picked out a bright burgundy shirt despite a choked sound of protest behind him and then had mercy and grabbed plain black trousers. He tossed them both to Wylan. “They’ll probably be too big on you, but have at it.”

“Thank you.”

“And just so you know…” He grinned. “The offer is still open. Want me to join you and scrub your back?”

Wylan turned completely pink.

Ah, he loved doing that.

“M-Maybe next time,” Wylan stammered, and then bolted into the other room.

Next time?

_Really?_

Jesper sat down on the couch and shook his head with a bemused grin. Things were looking up.

#

Wylan relaxed in the hot bath and closed his eyes. It was good to properly wash himself again, and he wanted to drift away into this sensation forever.

Once, it would have bothered him to think about Jesper being right on the other side of the door. It still felt strange, but not bad. For all the flirting the other boy did, he wouldn’t barge in without permission.

Even the warmth of the steaming water didn’t compare to how warm thoughts of Jesper made him feel. The sharpshooter had gone from being an annoyance whose presence he tolerated to a trusted friend whose presence was like a comforting blanket Wylan could wrap around himself.

The kiss they’d shared had been so wonderful.

His breath quickened at the memory. He wanted more of that. He wanted to open his heart to Jesper and let the other boy have him, body and soul. He wanted to trust someone enough to do that. He wanted to believe it was possible.

For all the countless fantasies he had of himself and Jesper together, he had countless more of how it could end in heartbreak. Jesper discarding him because he’d only wanted a few laughs. Jesper getting tired of him because he expected him to be more interesting than he was. Jesper learning the truth and sneering at him that he didn’t want a moron for a lover.

Wylan shivered, suddenly cold. The walls of the small room closed in on him. The first time his father caught Wylan eyeing another mercher’s son with interest, he told him point-blank that no one would want to be tied to an idiot.

Sometimes when Wylan tried to imagine himself and Jesper together, he heard his father’s words all over again but imagined them coming from Jesper’s lips instead.

He shuddered and ducked his head under the water. The shock of being submerged drove back the encroaching memories. When he came up again, he felt better, if a bit shaky. Jesper said it didn’t matter if there were things he couldn’t do. It was possible that his father was wrong—he needed to believe that.

Wylan took a deep breath. There was no denying it any longer, at least not to himself.

He was falling in love with Jesper.

Yet he couldn’t act on those feelings with his secret hanging between them. Taking that extra step was hard. He’d been prepared to tell the truth before, but when Jesper gave him a reprieve by saying he didn’t have to talk about it if he didn’t want to, it felt like a miracle. Wylan had never told anyone about his troubles with reading. It had been drilled into his mind over and over to never tell, to keep it a secret, to avoid bringing ridicule upon himself and shame upon the family name.

He took another breath. He needed a plan. Something to make this work.

Their time together in quarantine had shown Jesper he could be useful to him. Jesper had even asked for his help with his gambling addiction. Kaz’s request might help, too. If Kaz was pleased with Wylan’s work, he might make more requests, and Jesper would see.

So he’d make things for Kaz and help Jesper with whatever he needed, and then once he was absolutely _certain_ that Jesper knew he was useful and worth having around, he’d admit that he couldn’t read or write.

That was how he’d avoid ridicule. That was how he’d make sure Jesper didn’t stop wanting him when he learned the truth.

Wylan relaxed back in the water again. He had a plan. All that remained was to carry it out.


	4. Chapter 4

Jesper sat on the couch, idly flipping through a book he wasn’t really reading because he didn’t have the patience for it at the moment. He just needed something to occupy his hands while he waited for Wylan to finish his bath. Being trapped inside for long periods of time would always get under his skin, and knowing Wylan was naked in the other room was _not_ helping.

At least they could go out sometimes, unlike when they were quarantined. Maybe he could persuade Wylan that he needed to go out for more essential business.

The door to the other room opened, and Jesper lifted his head.

Everything he’d intended to say vanished from his mind.

His shirt was far too big on Wylan, as he’d expected. The baggy material hung loose around the other boy’s shoulders, and he’d rolled up the sleeves to keep his hands free. The bottom of the shirt hung well past his waist, enough that he could have gotten by modestly without the pants, which themselves were rolled up to account for their height difference. The sight was far too alluring.

Wylan looked good in that burgundy shirt, while at the same time the loose spaces made it easy to imagine slipping his hands inside and then seeing how Wylan looked with it completely off. Jesper drew a sharp breath and tried not to think about letting his hands roam over Wylan’s body. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it.

Wylan glanced down at himself, his expression bewildered. “What?”

“You look good in my clothes,” Jesper said with a sharp whistle. “Almost as good as I do.”

The other boy rolled his eyes and walked over to sit down alongside him. “Thanks for letting me borrow these.”

“Anytime.”

Oh yes, Wylan could wear his clothes anytime he wanted. Since he didn’t seem bothered by the attention, Jesper stared at him some more. His exposed collarbone especially looked like it was begging for someone—preferably Jesper—to graze their mouth and teeth over it.

A blush rose to Wylan’s cheeks. “I know. I’m too small for these clothes. They make me look like a little kid.”

Startled, Jesper laughed. “That’s not what I was thinking.” Far from it.

“What were you thinking?”

He smirked. “That you look like you just spent the night with your lover and needed to put on his clothes to avoid walking around naked.”

Wylan blushed scarlet.

“Trust me,” Jesper said, “I don’t see you as a _kid_ at all.”

The other boy glanced away for a moment, then looked back at him with a shy smile. “Then… are you saying I seem like I can handle myself? Like I’m… mature, not someone who needs to be taken care of?”

Oh, that was a tricky question, much trickier than Jesper expected to come from teasing him about how sexy he looked. Worse, he could tell it was important to Wylan, not just something he’d asked on a whim. His gaze was earnest and serious, like he needed to hear the answer. Joking around this time might backfire.

So instead of saying the first thing that came into his head like he often did, Jesper took a moment to choose his words carefully. “Everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes, at least a little bit.” And he wouldn’t mind being that person for Wylan. “Remember, I couldn’t have gotten through quarantine without you. You took care of me, and I appreciate that. Sure, merchling, there are times when you seem like you need someone to watch out for you”—mainly due to naïveté—“and other times when I feel like a kid next to you.”

“Oh,” Wylan said. He sounded baffled. “But I’m not… I didn’t… I haven’t really done anything that impressive.”

“Let me be the judge of that.” Jesper leaned back against the cushions. “So, since we’re stuck at home together, I suppose you should take charge again like you did in quarantine. You’re good at keeping us scheduled and organized, after all.”

“I… If you really want me to.”

There was an odd note in Wylan’s voice, as if he was nervous yet also somehow desperate. He was taking this conversation very seriously, and Jesper didn’t know why. It was a little unnerving.

When in doubt, flirt.

“I’m in your hands, merchling. Figuratively, that is.” He winked. “But if you want to make it literal, be my guest.”

Wylan blushed, and the world was back to normal.

#

They spent a quiet day playing cards and sitting around, and while that was fine for Wylan, he knew it would start wearing on Jesper soon, if it wasn’t already. It was only a matter of time before he wanted to go gambling again, too. Wylan had promised to help him with his addiction—but how?

Dinner together was much better than it had been in quarantine, since they had real food, and Wylan reminded himself that he’d promised to make cookies for Jesper.

First things first, though, Jesper had turned over responsibility for their plans to him, so he needed to take things one step at a time. As soon as they finished eating, Wylan sat down to work out a schedule for the most efficient uses of their “essential” time outside to get what they needed, based on what they already had and what was available.

“Are you sure you don’t want to write all this down?” Jesper asked partway through.

“No,” Wylan said, a little too loudly.

“Got it all memorized, huh?” Jesper snorted. “Genius.”

The flattery made guilt prickle Wylan, like he was deceiving Jesper by hiding the true reason he didn’t write anything down, even though it was true that he was memorizing their plans. He finished as quickly as he could.

Next he worked out the details of what he’d need to build the acid weapon for Kaz, and Jesper assured him he could get the required ingredients the next time he went out.

“Hey,” Jesper said softly as he finished up, “I’d like to ask you something. Is that okay?”

“Um.” It had to be something serious for him to want permission before even asking the question, but since he’d said he wouldn’t pry into why Wylan’s father had tried to kill him, it was hard to imagine what could possibly be that important. “Sure. Go ahead.”

“Did you enjoy it when we kissed?”

Wylan’s cheeks burned and he ducked his head. He hadn’t expected _that_ to be the question. “I…”

All at once he was back in that room with Jesper’s strong arms around him and his tongue sliding over his. Of course he’d enjoyed it; he’d never felt anything so good in his life before. All his growing attraction and admiration for Jesper had exploded into that one perfect, fleeting moment.

He stared at Jesper.

It would have been easier to know how to respond if Jesper were teasing him over his flustered reaction to the question. This patient silence made it feel even more serious, as though it Jesper considered it too important to mar with jokes.

“It was nice,” he finally said over the pounding of his heart.

“Would you want to do it again?”

His breath caught.

“It’s okay if you don’t. I just want to know. Because if you do… well, I’d like to kiss you again, Wy.”

The request sent a jolt through him. He’d wanted to hear those words so badly, but he didn’t know what to do. “Was it that good?” he managed, a feeble attempt to encourage the usual teasing.

Jesper’s storm-gray gaze burned into him. “Yes.”

Wait… really?

Even with his greater experience, their kiss had been like that for him too?

“I really want to kiss you,” Jesper said, his voice husky and nearly breathless. “But if you don’t want me to, I understand. I’d never pressure you. I hope you know that.”

“I know.” Wylan reached out and took Jesper’s hand. “I never was afraid of that. Even when you thought I was, I never meant it that way.”

“That… that story I wrote. Do you remember?” Jesper sounded uncharacteristically nervous. “It was about a mercher and a sharpshooter. They end up together. I know it’s just a story—but I think that sort of thing is possible. I mean, I think two people can—if they really try to make it work… It doesn’t matter who they are or where they—that is, if they care, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, merchling. I’m just rambling. Don’t mind me.”

Wylan didn’t know what to say.

He wanted to kiss Jesper again, so much. And the way Jesper was talking made it sound like maybe it wasn’t just a one-time fun thing he wanted. Maybe they could have something serious together. Wylan wanted to fall into his arms and never leave. It would be so easy, now that he’d asked, to simply say _yes_.

But…

Secrets and lies loomed over them, and they wouldn’t go away on their own. Relationships were built on trust. If he wanted to be with Jesper on more than just a physical level, he needed to _trust_ him on more than a physical level, too.

He could not enter a serious relationship with Jesper and expect to keep his illiteracy a secret forever. It would eventually come out.

“I…” He needed to put his plan into action before they could take that step. “I need to think.”

“Oh.” Jesper looked disappointed, but he forced a smile and squeezed his hand. “Take all the time you need, Wy.”

“Thank you.”

Wylan drew a deep breath and looked at their intertwined fingers. If Jesper wanted something to come of this, something between them, then he _really_ didn’t want to risk rejection. Jesper mocking him and rejecting him would destroy a dream that actually had a chance of coming true, rather than one that might always be pure fantasy.

He had a plan. He’d get there.

One step at a time.


	5. Chapter 5

Jesper woke up the next morning with Wylan nestled close, head on his shoulder. Seeing his face inches away made Jesper’s stomach flip-flop. How could the other boy say he needed to think about whether or not he wanted to kiss him again, yet snuggle up to him during the night?

Frustrated and more confused than ever about what was going on behind that cute face of his, Jesper wrapped his arms around Wylan and closed his eyes to savor the moment while it lasted.

But restlessness overcame him after a while. He was also becoming uncomfortably aroused by having Wylan’s body pressed against him, and he didn’t want Wylan to wake up in such a position.

Reluctantly, he shifted away, enough to gently extricate himself without waking Wylan. He needed to start moving, get out there and burn off some of his energy.

Wylan reached for him in his sleep, his hands grasping at air.

Jesper’s heart melted. “Shh, Wy, I’m not going far.” He stroked a few of Wylan’s curls away from his face, then froze. Uncomfortable, he pulled his hand back. It had seemed like such a natural thing to do. “I’ll be right outside. You just sleep.”

The other boy mumbled something inaudible and settled down, partly on Jesper’s side of the bed again. Jesper looked at him a little longer, then grabbed his guns and headed out.

#

Gunshots outside woke Wylan up.

He blinked blearily, then sat up as the empty apartment registered with him. Jesper! He’d gone out, he wasn’t back yet, he—

Even as Wylan struggled out of bed in a blind panic, his heart rate calmed. The gunshots continued, but not erratically like from a firefight. They were even, paced, measured. It sounded like someone engaged in target practice, which probably explained the absence of his sharpshooter.

He followed the rhythmic sound outside and around the back to a narrow alley. Jesper had set up a series of painted targets at the far end, and he aimed with a revolver in each hand.

With Jesper’s back to him, for once Wylan wasn’t shy about letting his gaze follow the other boy’s form. If only he’d brought paper to sketch him like this. His poise was perfect as he took his next shot, steady and yet somehow fluid at the same time. He could spring into motion at a moment’s notice and respond to whatever happened around him. Only Jesper could make target practice an art form.

His shot hit the target right in the center. With barely a pause, he twirled his guns too fast to follow with the eye and then began shooting with both, one after the other, right and then left, no time in between shots and yet hitting his target every time nevertheless. All the targets were down within seconds, while Wylan held his breath and watched.

Jesper turned around with a smirk. “What do you think?”

Wylan jumped. Not that he was surprised Jesper knew he was there, but—“You were showing off, weren’t you?”

“Of course. I can’t stick to plain old boring target practice when I have an audience.”

“It still would have been impressive to me,” Wylan said.

“That’s because you’re a merchling.”

His cheeks heated. Like he needed to be reminded that he didn’t belong.

“Any good sharpshooter can take a few shots in target practice.” Jesper winked. “I want to make sure you know _this_ sharpshooter is special.”

Wylan rolled his eyes.

“Besides, after how much you impressed me, I need to catch up. I can’t have you leaving me in the dust like that.”

“Wait,” he said, “what are you talking about?”

Jesper held up his revolver. “Shoots perfectly, merchling. You took this thing apart and then put it back together, and I wouldn’t even notice the difference.” He leaned toward him with a roguish grin. “What’s a genius like you doing with a guy like me?”

Wylan blushed. “No, that’s not—I didn’t do anything special.”

“Oh, is that how we’re playing this?” Jesper straightened up and waved his hand toward the fallen targets with a casual smirk. “Fine, I didn’t do anything special this morning either. Just thought I’d get in a little rapid-fire target practice, you know, the usual.”

That wasn’t the same at all. Jesper had _skill._

“Seriously, merchling, it’s not that I doubted you, but I thought I’d notice at least a little difference. It shoots as beautifully as ever, though.”

Wylan hesitated. “I could probably make them shoot faster, if you wanted.”

Jesper blinked. “Wait, what now?”

“When I was studying your gun,” he said, “I thought of some modifications to improve it. I didn’t want to change anything without your permission, though—and I didn’t have the materials I’d need in quarantine anyway.”

The other boy gave him a huge grin. “Say the word, Wy, and I’ll get you whatever you need. There’s no one I’d rather trust my guns with.”

He blushed and looked away. That felt nice to hear… and more importantly, improving Jesper’s guns for him was a perfect way to show him how useful he could be.

One step at a time.

Suddenly, Jesper’s arm was around his shoulders. “Unless you want me to put on another show right now, why don’t we go inside and get something to eat?”

“Okay.” Wylan paused. “But, um… I’d love to watch you again another day.”

“You just want an excuse to stare at me.”

He sort of did. “Can I draw you next time?”

Jesper glanced at him. “You want to draw me shooting things?”

Embarrassed, Wylan managed a blushing nod.

“Who am I to deny you the pleasure of immortalizing me in art?” Jesper winked. “You can draw me whenever you want.”

#

Once they finished breakfast, Jesper cleared his throat. “So, as good as you look in my clothes, we really ought to get some of your things if you’ll be staying here for a while.”

Wylan froze.

“Maybe today you should head over and get what you need. Don’t worry, I’m sure that counts as essential.”

It was a good idea.

It was.

He needed his things, and besides, he couldn’t hide forever.

“Or…” The silence stretched too long, and a note of discomfort entered Jesper’s voice. “Did you change your mind about staying a long time? I mean, I guess we never really discussed that part… It’s fine, I’m not offended.”

That wasn’t it at all.

Wylan opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He should just get his clothes and bring them back to Jesper’s place. That was what any normal, rational person would do. He didn’t want to protest and let Jesper see how weak and useless he was.

The world wobbled around him, but then Jesper appeared in his vision. He placed his hands on Wylan’s shoulders, their warmth enough to banish some of the chill and ground him in the present again. “Talk to me, Wy. What’s wrong?”

“It’s just…” Wylan couldn’t meet his gaze. “He knows where I live. He sends letters. I know he’ll find me eventually, but… it’s been nice to have a little time when he doesn’t know where I am.”

A little time to feel truly safe.

“Your father?”

He forced a nod. Then he dared to glance up at Jesper for any sign of what he was thinking, but he didn’t know how to interpret the troubled expression on his face.

“You think he’ll send someone to kill you?”

Wylan nodded again. “When I first met you, I… That’s who I thought you might be, at first.”

Jesper stared at him.

Oh, why had he mentioned that? Jesper didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to hear any of this.

“All right,” Jesper finally said, “looks like I’ll be getting your things for you.”

Wylan blinked.

“Unless you don’t want me in your room.”

He hesitated. The letters were there, and he had no idea what they said. His father might have taunted him for his inability to read, and if Jesper saw them, he’d know. On the other hand, he really did believe his father might have his place under surveillance, waiting to find out where he’d gone. He’d rather risk Jesper learning the truth than put himself within his father’s reach again. “Okay. Thanks, Jes.”

“Don’t mention it, merchling.” Jesper leaned closer. “I’ve been hoping to see your room anyway, although I’d rather imagined it being at your invitation, possibly with candlelight and silk sheets.”

Wylan blushed and glanced away. “Let me get the key.”

“No need. And I’m not going now, anyway.”

He frowned. “What?”

“Come on, put it together, merchling. You’re cute when you’re smart, you know.”

Another wave of heat flushed his body, and then the realization struck him. “You’re going to break in?”

“You got it.” Jesper grinned. “If your father really is watching for you, it’ll be a dead giveaway if someone strolls up during the day, unlocks the door, and comes out with your clothes. I’d probably be able to lose a tail, but even so, they’d know who to look for.”

That wouldn’t be good. Jesper’s life was dangerous enough as it was.

“But if someone breaks into your place at night and sneaks out with a bag full of stuff, what will he think then?”

“That I’m incapable of even protecting my own things,” Wylan said.

Jesper winced. “I was thinking more ‘just a random thief in the Barrel,’ but you get the idea.” He clapped Wylan on the shoulder. “Anything in particular you want me to pick up?”

“Just clothes,” he said. It wasn’t like he’d managed to take too much with him during his desperate swim.

“Got it. I’ll go tonight.”


	6. Chapter 6

When night fell, Jesper left Wylan with a strict promise not to open the door unless he was sure it was someone he trusted and a half-joking reminder to use explosives to protect himself if necessary. He checked around outside to make sure he wasn’t being watched, and then he set out.

He needed to approach this like a real job, as seriously as if Kaz had ordered him to break into the merchling’s room and come out with the goods. If Wylan was right about Van Eck watching for his movements, it was vital that Jesper not let on that he had permission to be there.

All the same, it was one of the easiest jobs he’d done, and it was a simple matter to surreptitiously pick the lock once he was sure no one was—at least obviously—observing him. He opened the door and slipped inside.

For a moment, he just looked around.

Wylan’s room looked so… plain. Almost unlived in, like it was simply a place for him to sleep and nothing more. It wasn’t a home. Maybe that was what he should have expected, but it somehow hurt to see it. He wondered if Wylan ever had a place he truly considered home.

Jesper shook himself from his thoughts and went to work. A few shirts, some pants, all in the most boring styles imaginable; they really needed to do something about the amount of color in the merchling’s wardrobe. He stuffed the clothes into the sack he’d brought and tossed in a handful of other personal effects. Then he scanned the room again.

If he got caught—not that he expected it, but it was important to prepare for the worst—he’d be hard-pressed to explain why he broke in to steal some clothes. He could make it work if he had to, but it would be much better if he had something valuable as a cover story.

His gaze landed on a small case alongside the bed.

He crossed the room and opened it to reveal a flute. Although the case looked waterlogged, the instrument itself seemed to be in good condition. Perfect. A flute would be the ideal cover, something valuable he might have believably broken in to steal. It might make Wylan happy, too.

Jesper ran his fingers over the instrument. Saints, when had he become such a sap? Bringing a flute home to a merchling? He could only imagine what he’d have said not more than a few weeks ago. It wasn’t useful for someone in the Barrel. It was one of those silly merchling things.

Wasn’t it?

He put the flute in the sack and arranged the clothes to hide it. If he happened to be caught, it would look like the flute was the objective and the clothes were a ruse, not the other way around.

Once he arranged it to his satisfaction, he took one last look around the room for anything Wylan might need or want.

The edge of a piece of paper stuck out from beneath the thin pillow on the bed.

Jesper hesitated. He shouldn’t do it. It might be something private. On the other hand, his curiosity was almost unbearable. He wanted to know everything he could about Wylan. Yet he also wanted to respect his privacy. He stood frozen, gaze on the tantalizing edge.

Curiosity won. He hurried over to the bed. Would he find a diary? A glimpse into the merchling’s inner thoughts? Maybe something that mentioned meeting Jesper and revealed Wylan had secretly been in love with him all this time—okay, that might be asking for too much. Jesper lifted the pillow.

It was a stack of letters.

Letters addressed to Wylan and sent by Van Eck.

Right, Wylan said something about that. He said the letters were the reason he knew his father knew where he lived. Jesper took a breath, but he was already in too deep to overcome his curiosity now. With a silent apology to his merchling, he opened the first letter.

_If you’re reading this, then you know how much I wish to have you home._

Baffled, Jesper finished reading Van Eck’s entreaties and moved on to the next letter.

_When you read this letter, you’ll know how much I love you and miss you._

Each started out in a similar way. Jesper sat down heavily on the bed and stared at the stack of letters in his hands. This wasn’t what he thought he’d find. The letters didn’t match up with Wylan’s story. They suggested the exact opposite, that his father loved him and wanted him to come home.

Could Wylan have been mistaken about Van Eck hiring someone to kill him?

No… he’d sounded so certain, so resigned to the unhappy knowledge. Even more tellingly, he claimed he could explain why. Although Jesper hadn’t pressed him about it, his ready explanation was evidence all on his own.

If Jesper’s da ever tried to kill him, he’d be hurt and confused… and he wouldn’t understand. He’d want an explanation, he’d want to know what he had done that was terrible enough to make his own father turn against him. Maybe he could come up with something—he was a disappointment of a son, his gambling debts caused his da trouble, he’d made one too many enemies—but even so, it would come with questions and uncertainty, because he wouldn’t be able to wrap his head around the fact that anything could make his da hate him that much.

But Wylan… Wylan said he knew why. He had a sad answer in mind for why his father would want him dead. No matter what the letters said, there was bad blood between Wylan and Van Eck.

Then there were the nightmares. Jesper never asked Wylan what he dreamed about on those nights when he cried out in his sleep and sought Jesper’s arms for comfort, but he suspected the nightmares involved his home life in one way or another.

No, while the letters didn’t make sense, Jesper believed what Wylan told him.

He replaced the letters back under the pillow, double-checked that he had everything he came for, and crept back out into the night.

#

Wylan walked in a slow circuit around the main room and then into the unfurnished adjacent room just to help himself grow more at ease. He didn’t feel like quite as much of an outsider there anymore. This place had become comfortable, familiar.

In the short time since he’d moved in, Jesper never minded him going where he wanted or touching things in the room. He told him to make himself at home, but the problem was, Wylan’s own home was never a place where he felt comfortable acting without permission. He couldn’t shake the urge to ask Jesper before he did anything.

He wanted to break free of that.

Asking for permission made Wylan feel weak and young. He didn’t want Jesper to see him that way, and he didn’t want to _feel_ that way anymore.

Jesper wouldn’t hurt him. Jesper wouldn’t hate him.

And so he walked through the rooms and looked around and tried to accept that this was something he could do, that he wasn’t sneaking or doing anything bad, and that even if Jesper walked through the door at that very moment, he wouldn’t be in trouble.

He glanced at the door with the sudden paranoid anxiety that the other boy _would_ come through. Then he tore his gaze away. It would be okay, and he needed to get over this fear.

At least the room itself had been a safe place. Only one thing in it gave him genuine anxiety—the small pile of books in the corner. Jesper didn’t seem to read often, but it was still cause for concern. What if he suggested Wylan read one of them? What if he started reading one himself and wanted to share it?

He’d also apparently hidden away the book with the erotic art—not that Wylan cared.

Wylan took a deep breath and turned away from the ominous corner. Instead, he looked through their food supplies. He still owed Jesper cookies, and he wanted to make good on that promise. At least they had a nice variety of food here, unlike when they were in quarantine. That alone was a major help.

The door opened.

He froze, old fears rising up.

Jesper strolled inside with a wave and Wylan bit his tongue to forced back a stammered excuse for why he wasn’t sitting on the couch.

“Worked like a charm,” Jesper said. “No trouble at all.”

Wylan let out a slow breath. As expected, he didn’t mind at all that he’d been wandering around in his absence. Maybe he could overcome this after all.

“Grabbed a bunch of stuff for you.” Jesper opened up the sack he’d taken with him and pulled out a pile of clothes. He deposited everything on the bed. “Also, I brought you a surprise.”

“Another surprise?”

“Yeah. Come here.”

Puzzled, Wylan walked over to him.

The other boy reached into the bag one final time and brought out Wylan’s flute. He handed it to him with a grin. “So, when do I get to hear you play?”


	7. Chapter 7

Wylan stared at Jesper.

The other boy grinned at him, as though asking to hear him play his flute was a perfectly natural thing to do. But Jesper wouldn’t—he _couldn’t_ care about something like that. It wasn’t the sort of skill he valued. Being a flautist in the Barrel was absurd. It was something to laugh at. It had to be a joke.

And yet Jesper hadn’t mocked him in a long time. Something had changed between them in those two weeks they spent together.

“You want to hear me play?” Wylan asked, still not sure he’d heard right.

“Obviously.” Jesper put his hands on his hips and leaned close. “You expect me to bunk with a musician and never get a concert out of it?”

“W-Well, um…”

The request seemed sincere.

Wylan set the flute case down and ran his fingers over the top. Then he opened it up—for the first time since he ended up in the Barrel, he realized. He’d never had cause or inclination to play or even look at it after that. It sent a curious pang of nostalgia through him, a wave of longing for simpler times.

His flute looked as beautiful as ever. The case must have protected it from the water, although it was a miracle he’d managed to keep it with him at all when he swam for the shore.

It brought back memories. Above them all was that painful moment of happiness when he thought he was going to music school. He thought he’d start a new life for himself and find a place where he truly belonged. Suddenly, that old world was colliding with this new world of living alongside Jesper.

“I could play for you,” he said.

“You mean right now?” Jesper sounded startled.

Wylan lifted his head. “Is this a bad time? Is it too late at night for music?” Despite the awkwardness, part of him deep down _did_ want to play for the other boy.

“No, but… don’t you need music or something?”

“I memorized my favorites,” he said.

“Of course you did.” Jesper snorted. “Genius.”

Wylan blushed and looked back down at the instrument. It had nothing to do with genius. He memorized the songs he played the most, both from the sheer number of times he played them and because he wanted to hold them in his heart forever. He memorized the songs that brought him comfort when the rest of his world was falling apart.

He lifted the flute from its case. His father never valued his music, but at least he hadn’t stopped him from practicing except for when he was in a particularly bad mood.

“Hurry up, merchling, it’s about time I see you blow your flute.” A sly note entered Jesper’s voice. “I can think of some other things I’d like to see you blow, too.”

Ears hot, Wylan pointed the flute straight at him. “I won’t blow anything if you keep that up.”

Jesper snickered, but sat down on the couch without any further inappropriate remarks.

Wylan closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. It had been a long time since he played, and much longer since he’d played for someone else. He thought through the songs he’d memorized, and finally settled on a calming one—maybe not the best choice for Jesper, but fitting for this new life. It was hazy in his thoughts after all this time, but the memory remained, waiting for him to grasp it.

He lifted the flute to his lips.

Once he began, it was easier. The notes were fixed in his memory, and each led to the next as his fingers moved faster than he could consciously bring the song to mind. He’d done this so many times. His discomfort over Jesper listening faded, and the music carried him away, somehow feeling as though it were inside him even as it filled the small room.

At the end of the song, he held out the final note, then hesitantly opened his eyes as he remembered he wasn’t alone.

Jesper broke into applause. He almost looked awed—but surely not. It was just music.

“Sorry,” Wylan said. With the spell broken, every spot where he’d faltered or hit the wrong note stood out in his mind. “I’m a little out of practice.”

“Merchling, if that’s how you sound out of practice, I’m not sure my heart can take hearing you _with_ practice.”

He blushed and looked down at the flute. “I haven’t played since… since I came to the Barrel.” He ran his fingers over the cool metal. “I’m not even sure why I still have this. I thought about selling it. Maybe I should have. That would have been better than hanging onto it for no reason, right? But… selling a flute like this might have drawn too much attention to me.”

That sounded practical, a much better explanation than admitting he was weak and sentimental, and he didn’t want to give up his flute.

“I’m glad you didn’t sell it,” Jesper said.

Wylan looked up sharply. “But it’s pointless here. It’s not a real skill that will do me any good.”

Jesper winced.

“You know it’s true.”

“Is that what you really think?” he asked. “Or is it something other people have told you?”

Wylan looked away.

“Is it something I made you think?”

He didn’t want to answer that—or think about how the other boy used to tease him.

Jesper slowly stood up and crossed the room toward him. “Maybe it’s not strictly practical, but there’s a place in this world for beautiful things.” He stopped right in front of Wylan. “It’s easy to forget that, especially in the Barrel. I’m sorry if I made you feel like your music was worthless. It isn’t.”

“But music doesn’t help anyone.”

“Doesn’t it?”

Wylan frowned.

“I feel more relaxed from listening to you,” Jesper said. “Things like that, they still help people. Sometimes relaxing and enjoying something beautiful can help more than anything else.”

This wasn’t the sort of speech Wylan ever expected to hear from Jesper. His cheeks heated. His music could _help_ people? Was he serious about this?

“Someday,” Jesper said, his voice soft and gentle, “you’ll be a great musician. People all throughout Ketterdam and beyond will gather together to hear the latest song from Wylan Van Eck. It might just be enough to help someone get through their day.” He chuckled. “Of course, I’ll get to tell everyone I knew you before you were famous.”

That had been the dream. Learning to play, performing in front of other people, bringing joy to audiences… he’d wanted that. He’d wanted that so _much._

The pain of that false future crashed into him sharply, without warning, and tears welled up in his eyes. He turned away so Jesper wouldn’t see, but it was too late.

“Merchling?” Jesper stepped up behind him, a warm presence at Wylan’s back, and put his hands on his shoulders. “Did I say something wrong?”

“He said he was sending me to study music,” Wylan said through numb lips. “I believed it completely, right up until my ‘bodyguards’ tried to kill me. I thought I finally had a place for myself. A future.”

He hadn’t meant to say that much. Surely Jesper would want to know why he didn’t have a future as a mercher.

But instead, Jesper’s warm hands slid down from his shoulders to his sides. He wrapped his arms around Wylan from behind. “Hey, look on the bright side.”

Bright side? What bright side?

“It’s not all bad, is it? After all, you met me.”

Wylan closed his eyes and let Jesper’s warmth suffuse him. Right, something good had come from it. He’d met Jesper and the others. Maybe he’d found a place where he belonged after all.

Ghezen, he wanted to believe that was true.

#

Jesper held Wylan against him, hoping he could bring comfort with his touch if not his words.

Once not too long ago, he’d assumed Wylan was a pampered brat who had no idea what true hardship was. It hadn’t been a good thing at the time. It had been a reason to scorn Wylan.

But suddenly he wished he’d been right.

He wanted to imagine Wylan being loved and spoiled, not put on a boat with hired killers to erase him. He wanted to picture Wylan surrounded by all the comforts he could ever ask for, not desperately fleeing for his life and questioning if he should sell the one treasured possession he kept with him. He wanted Wylan to have been handed a perfect future, not the shattered hopes that he’d finally found one.

Wylan sniffled, but quickly masked the sound.

Jesper tightened his embrace. He hated the way Wylan trembled in his arms, the way self-loathing crept into his words so often, and the way he seemed so afraid to show weakness.

He rested his chin on top of Wylan’s head. The soft brush of golden curls against his face made his heart flutter. “Focus on me,” he said. “I’m much more interesting than bad memories.”

“Yeah.” Then Wylan said it again, his voice stronger. “Yeah, you are.”

“I’m glad you agree,” Jesper said. “And I’d like you to know that you’re the perfect size.”

“Excuse me?”

“For me to rest my head on like this.”

Wylan laughed weakly, and the angle was just right for Jesper to see that he was blushing.

“I’m glad I met you,” Jesper said softly. “I’m glad circumstances brought us together. But… if I could trade that for you having a happy life at home, I would. You don’t deserve what you went through.”

Wylan shifted, and Jesper loosened his arms so the other boy could break away. It hurt, but Wylan rarely seemed ready for prolonged contact aside from when he snuggled close in his sleep. Always so shy.

“Jesper, I… I, um…” Wylan looked away. “I wouldn’t.”

“What?”

“You said you’d trade away meeting me for me having a happy life at home. I wouldn’t.”

“Couldn’t bear to give up my company, huh?” Jesper asked, with a laugh and a wink to hide how genuinely touched he was. “I must be doing something right.”

Wylan blushed, but he didn’t deny it.

And although he went to sleep on his own side of the bed like usual when they settled down for the night, it seemed like hardly any time at all before the sleeping merchling closed the gap between them to rest in Jesper’s arms.


	8. Chapter 8

Wylan felt uneasy being away from the safety of home—Jesper’s home, he corrected himself, but it was becoming harder to make that distinction. Nevertheless, this was important. He wanted to present Kaz with his results personally, rather than send Jesper in his place.

Jesper had offered to go with him, but Wylan turned him down. They shouldn’t be both outside on business that was only debatably “essential.”

And so he found himself facing Kaz’s stare all alone as he set down the small containers filled with acid.

“It’s not a bomb,” Wylan said, before the question could even come up.

Kaz’s eyebrows twitched. “Oh?”

“Jesper told me what you wanted a silent bomb for—breaking through fortifications and defenses without making noise. What I prepared is a special type of acid that should do the trick. The acid will eat through anything, even steel, in a matter of seconds. You could use it functionally as a bomb”—he’d planned a demonstration, in case Kaz wanted to see—“by throwing these projectiles with enough force to shatter the glass and spread the acid over a large area. If you just need to cut through something small, though, like the hinges of a door, you could apply it more precisely.”

He’d rehearsed all of this in his mind, but it felt different here, actually facing Kaz. He almost felt like he was at home, justifying why he hadn’t completed a lesson.

Nothing was ever good enough, and his accomplishments were always overshadowed by what he failed to do.

Wylan found himself rambling about how he’d made a substance that was impervious to the acid, to coat the inside of the glass containers with. It wouldn’t do to have the acid destroy the container, after all, especially since the acid needed to be strong while the container itself had to be fragile enough to shatter upon impact. He explained the different methods for delivering the acid and how he could create a different device if none of these were exactly what Kaz was looking for.

“I can demonstrate it for you, if you like,” Wylan finally said.

Kaz nodded without a word and stood up. He beckoned for him to follow.

Wylan grabbed the container of acid and wished with all his might that he could tell what Kaz was thinking. He had the distinct impression that the older boy was displeased that he had disobeyed his instruction to make a bomb, but he wasn’t sure _how_ displeased he was and how much the acid’s effectiveness could make up for it.

No one dared trouble them as they walked through the streets of the Barrel, and then at last Kaz stopped in front of a thick door to what appeared to be an abandoned building.

“Go on.”

Wylan didn’t ask if Kaz actually wanted to get inside or if this was just for demonstration purposes, or if the door was even locked at all. Instead, he simply twisted the top of the smaller container he’d prepared for precision jobs and sprinkled the acid on the door’s hinges, careful to keep his fingers out of harm’s way.

Then he held his breath. He hadn’t actually tested it on anything big, since he didn’t want to destroy any of Jesper’s things in the name of science.

The acid ate through the metal almost instantly, and the thick door sagged. Wylan stepped back, but the door didn’t fall, just toppled heavily against the frame. He pushed it open with no resistance and leaned it against the interior wall.

Then he looked back at Kaz.

Kaz nodded. “Good work.”

Wylan’s whole world froze. Good work? A _good work_ from Kaz Brekker was more than he ever expected. The compliment brought a huge grin to his face. His own father had never given him a _good work_ , no matter how hard he tried or what he accomplished, only criticized him for not doing better.

At the other boy’s frown, he managed to compose himself and stop beaming, even though he still wanted to shout for joy.

Kaz looked over the hinges again and then turned to face him. “Many people would have tried to make a silent bomb simply because that was what they were instructed to do.”

Wylan flushed. “I know. It’s just that when Jesper told me what you wanted it for, I realized there was another way it could be done. That’s why I decided to try with the acid. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing for getting the job done?”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“The restrictions should be lifted soon,” Kaz said. “Start planning ahead. There are some things I’ll need done.”

#

It was a relief to see Wylan finally return safely, and an even bigger relief to see him smiling. Jesper stood up to greet him. “Did it go well?”

“Kaz was pleased,” Wylan said. “He has more work for me, too.”

The sight of their innocent merchling brimming with joy because Kaz Brekker had illegal work lined up for him almost made Jesper laugh. “Guess you’re really one of us now, merchling.”

Wylan blushed.

“What’s next? The tattoo? I could help with that.”

“You just want an excuse to put your hands on me,” Wylan said.

Jesper grinned. “Want to give me a better excuse?” He held out his arms. “I’m not picky.”

The other boy rolled his eyes, but shoved Jesper playfully on his way past to put down the new supplies he’d apparently bought on his way back.

Something about that casual touch made Jesper’s heart flutter. It wasn’t intimate in the slightest, but it was… familiar. Wylan had grown comfortable with him. They could tease and banter and enjoy a warm closeness that grew stronger by the day. He wished they could talk about that kiss again, but for the moment, this was enough.

“Here,” Jesper said, as he joined Wylan at the counter, “let me help you.”

But as the day stretched on, it became clear that this life wasn’t enough in ways that had nothing to do with his relationship with Wylan. He couldn’t sit inside and do nothing. He couldn’t stay still for so long. Something had to happen to keep him busy, something beyond simple conversation.

In the back of his mind, the itch started up again. Makker’s Wheel was calling to him. Restrictions or not, someone would have started up a few games in secret.

He could almost see the wheel spinning, feel the thrill as he waited to find out if it was in his favor or not. When it wasn’t, it was disappointing, but when it was, the rush was as strong as any gunfight or kiss could be.

He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek in the hopes that the pain would ground him. It didn’t. If anything, the urge was getting stronger.

“Jes?” Wylan sounded like he could tell what was bothering him. “Why don’t we do something?”

“Like what?” Jesper asked. There was only one thing he wanted to do.

“Anything. We could play cards together. You could shoot targets. I could tell you about what I’m working on.”

He nodded vaguely, unfocused. The itch was stronger than ever, and the only thing that could satisfy it was to get out there and put _kruge_ on the line and wait to see if luck was in his favor or not. All the distractions in the world would only mute it, and then it would be waiting for him again.

“Jesper?”

He stood up. “I’ll be back, merchling.”

“Wait.” Wylan moved to stand between him and the door. “You asked me to stop you.”

“I’m just going out for a walk.” The words tasted sour on his tongue. Jesper hated lying to Wylan, and hated even more that he’d do it again if it meant he could go out.

“Please.” Wylan looked up at him, his beautiful eyes wide with concern. “Stay here with me.”

He almost cracked a joke about Wylan wanting him, but it wouldn’t fully dampen his need even if the other boy played along. Even if he let Jesper push him against the wall and kiss him again and fulfill every other urge rising up in him, it wouldn’t solve the problem—and he’d feel horrible for using Wylan in such a way.

“Jesper—”

He stepped past Wylan and opened the door.

“Please, Jesper.” A gentle hand on his arm made him pause. “You know this isn’t what you want to do.”

Jesper took a breath. He knew. All he had to do was step back, close the door, and endure another night indoors while Makker’s Wheel spun without him. It would be simple, and it was the right thing, and it was what he would wish he’d done in the morning.

But he took another step forward. Wylan’s hand slipped away.

It was a problem, he knew it was, and he wished he’d never told Wylan about his gambling addiction, because it felt even worse to walk away after Wylan tried to stop him. Yet he took another step anyway. Just one spin. One spin of Makker’s Wheel to satisfy the craving, and then he’d go right back home. Who said he had to stop gambling entirely? He could ease back little by little.

_It won’t just be one spin_ , a voice whispered in the back of his mind. _It never is._

It would be. All he had to do was win once, and then he’d feel better.

_And if you lose?_

If he lost, he’d try a couple more times to make up for it, but not too much. One win was all he needed.

_Until you think you can win even more._

Jesper gritted his teeth. It was all true. There was no way he’d walk out after a single spin of Makker’s Wheel, whether he won or lost. He knew it and Wylan knew it, and the other boy was still standing at the door behind him, watching helplessly. There was still time to turn around.

But Jesper kept walking.


	9. Chapter 9

When morning came, Jesper still wasn’t back.

Wylan felt sick, but he tried to stay calm. There was no reason to be too worried, no matter how strange it had felt to go to sleep in Jesper’s bed by himself and wake up there alone. Jesper did this sort of thing all the time. He’d be back. Once he returned, he wouldn’t want to be fussed over, either.

But Wylan had failed him. He hadn’t been able to keep him from gambling.

“Useless,” he said under his breath as he paced.

Right when he’d started to prove himself to Kaz, too. He’d taken one step down the path of his plan, only to ruin it all by not being useful in the way Jesper needed him to be. He also couldn’t help but feel selfish—because the most important thing was that Jesper was struggling, yet Wylan kept thinking about how it affected him instead.

He ran his hands over his face and through his hair. Pacing and worrying wouldn’t get anything done.

He’d try to help Jesper and make up for failing last night.

But how?

Wylan bit his lip. There were two prizes he still owed Jesper from their card games in quarantine. One was a full portrait he’d promised to draw of him once he had access to more supplies. However, that would require Jesper to be present—and stay still for long periods of time, which might not be the best thing at the moment.

He also promised him dessert.

At the time, he’d intended it to be a dessert made with the last of their cocoa while they were in quarantine, but his plans to make cookies were thwarted by not having access to an oven. Wylan knew his way around the Barrel well enough at this point to have an idea of where to go if he needed to bake something.

Going out was dangerous. His father must be searching for him.

And this wasn’t strictly essential business.

But it was for Jesper.

Wylan glanced outside to make sure the other boy wasn’t on his way just yet, suppressed a twinge of regret and annoyance that he couldn’t write a note to let Jesper know where he’d gone— _like anyone else could_ , his father’s nasty whisper rang through his mind—and hurried out to make some cookies.

#

Jesper opened the door with an apology on his lips and froze.

The room was empty.

He hurried to the adjacent room and knocked, in case Wylan was bathing. There was no answer. He hesitated, then opened it. Empty.

Wylan was gone.

A sudden jolt of fear made him realize Wylan might have _left_. It couldn’t have been easy for Wylan to be alone all night and even into the morning, with no knowledge of when Jesper might return. He couldn’t really blame the other boy if he’d decided to leave, yet having that closeness potentially ripped away hurt a lot more than Jesper expected.

Last night had been bad. Finding a gambling den under the current restrictions wasn’t impossible for someone who knew the right places to look, and it hadn’t taken long. Jesper managed to find a few good games, lose some money, and lose some more trying to make it back, until he found himself with more guilt than he knew what to do with.

And now he might have screwed this up, just like he screwed up any good thing that came into his life.

But… His gaze darted around the empty room until he spotted the flute case. Clothes discarded from the night before, not tidied up yet. A half-finished sketch sitting on the table. Little signs of Wylan filled the room, and Jesper found himself smiling. Wylan hadn’t left for good, and more importantly, this place was starting to become partly his. He was making it a home.

Maybe he wouldn’t leave even once the restrictions were lifted. He seemed happy. He might be up for making it a long-term thing. Assuming, of course, there weren’t too many nights like the previous one.

Jesper’s mirth faded, and he sighed.

“I’ll do better for you, merchling,” he said to the empty room. “I promise.”

“Good.”

He jumped and turned to face Wylan, who stood in the open door behind him.

The other boy tilted his head. “Don’t tell me I snuck up on you.”

On a normal day, Wylan wasn’t nearly stealthy enough to take Jesper unawares, but he’d been so caught up in the worry and confusion and guilt… He opened his mouth to ask where Wylan had been, and then the boy fully entered the room with a large plate.

“Cookies,” Wylan said with a smile, then blushed and ducked his head. “I made them myself, so I hope they’re okay.”

Jesper stared at him, speechless.

“I owe you dessert from our bet, remember?”

“But I left last night,” he said, unable to wrap his mind around Wylan making cookies for him while waiting for him to return. “I went out gambling, even though you tried to stop me.”

Wylan’s face crumpled. “I know, and I’m sorry, Jes. I promised to help you, but I couldn’t. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

Baffled, Jesper shook his head. “Why are _you_ apologizing, merchling? This is on me. It’s my problem, my—”

“I was supposed to help.”

“It’s not that easy.” He looked away, even guiltier knowing that he’d somehow left the other boy blaming himself. “It’s not your fault.”

“Still, I—”

“I’m sorry,” Jesper said over his unneeded apology. “I’ll try harder. I will. I _will_ ,” he said again, more to himself than to Wylan.

“Will you try a cookie?” Wylan asked.

Jesper doubted he deserved cookies, especially not apology cookies. He should be making it up to Wylan, not the other way around. But from the earnest look on the other boys face, this meant a lot to him. “Let’s split them,” he said.

“But…”

“Please?”

Wylan smiled. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

They sat down together, and Wylan uncovered the plate. There were only a few cookies, so they split them evenly, three for each. Jesper noted with amusement how anxious Wylan looked. He _did_ say he’d made them himself, and it was probably his first attempt. “You didn’t put anything funny in these, did you?” Jesper asked.

“Of course not!”

He was so easy to tease. “No experiments?”

“No!”

Jesper laughed and took a bite.

The chocolate flavor came through first, strong and rich. Beyond the sweetness lay a slightly bitter edge. It wasn’t perfect—it was a little hard, not quite right—but it tasted good and had been made by his anxious merchling just for him.

“It’s delicious,” Jesper said.

Wylan beamed and took a bite of his own cookie. Then he frowned. “It’s too hard.”

“I like it.”

“I should have used more sugar.”

“It was your first try,” Jesper said.

“Then you admit it,” Wylan said, his face falling. “They aren’t good.”

Jesper rolled his eyes. “They taste fine, merchling. And considering you probably never baked anything before in your life, it’s an incredible effort.”

If anything, Wylan’s expression clouded further. _Incredible effort_ was apparently not what he had in mind. He finished his cookie, then ate another, his expression so critical it was as if he was trying to pick out every possible flaw.

“You must like them too,” Jesper said, “since you’re still eating them.”

Wylan didn’t answer.

This called for more drastic measures to get through to him. “I love chocolate.” Jesper finished his remaining cookies and smirked. “And you know what?”

“What?” Wylan asked, his tone still subdued and distracted.

Jesper leaned across the table toward him. “You’d probably taste like chocolate right now if I kissed you.”

That seemed to at least partly startle him out of his dismal thoughts. “ _What_?”

“You heard me.” He eyed Wylan’s lips. “Should we give it a try?”

“You really do have a one-track mind,” the other boy said.

Jesper leaned back in his seat again with a laugh. He couldn’t help a pang of disappointment, but at least Wylan didn’t look as unhappy as he had before.

#

They passed the rest of the day quietly, without incident, but by the time evening came, Jesper was restless.

More games were waiting for him out there, and his luck might be on point tonight.

He shouldn’t go.

But he wanted to.

His gaze drifted to the door as much as he tried to fight it.

Wylan moved into his field of vision, his gaze earnest. “Why don’t we do something fun tonight?”

“Yeah.” Jesper tried to focus on that. He wanted to stay with Wylan tonight. He _did_. It didn’t matter how much the thrill of gambling called to him…

“What do you want to do?”

“What I want is exactly the problem.” Jesper looked past the other boy toward the door again. It would be so easy to stay in, but somehow it felt even easier to follow the urge and leave, just as he had the night before.

Wylan caught his arm. “Please, Jes. Don’t go out tonight.”

“I know, I know.” He shook himself free. He should never have confided in Wylan that his gambling was a problem. At least then he’d only have to deal with his own guilt, not disappointing someone else.

“We can do whatever you want,” Wylan said. “Anything that makes you happy.”

Anything? It was a good flirting opportunity, but it would come to nothing, and Jesper was starting to get tired of flirting with someone who made his heart race so much, only to get deflection and dismissal in response. It hurt, all the more so because he couldn’t get a definitive rejection, either.

“Just leave me alone,” he said.

“I—”

“I won’t go out, okay? So shut up and leave me alone!”

Wylan flinched. He walked to the other side of the room and sat down by himself.

This felt terrible. Jesper turned away so he wouldn’t have to see that hurt look on his face. He wanted to be alone. He wanted the freedom to not feel guilty. None of this was Wylan’s fault, and he knew he shouldn’t have snapped at him.

But at the moment, trapped inside instead of heading out like he wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to care.


	10. Chapter 10

Wylan watched Jesper carefully over breakfast. After the previous night’s awkwardness, they had both eventually gone to bed, but for the first time in a while Wylan didn’t find himself moving closer during the night. He awoke on his own side of the bed, unexpectedly cold.

“Hey,” Jesper finally said, “cheer up.”

Wylan glanced at the older boy. It was the first thing he’d really said to him since the night before. “I wanted to help you.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Jesper sighed. “I appreciate you trying, I really do. It’s just… that’s part of the problem. I know it’s what I asked you to do, but it doesn’t feel good when it’s happening.”

Wylan nodded.

He understood. But… he couldn’t shake the feeling that he should have been able to do more. His attempt left Jesper feeling annoyed and unhappy instead of satisfied. Someone who could really help him would be able to distract him so it didn’t reach that point.

He wanted to be useful to Jesper, but he’d failed again.

Jesper reached out and touched his hand. “Thank you, Wy.”

Startled, Wylan met his gaze. His warm touch sent a thrill through him, and his gray eyes felt like they were drawing him in. Unbidden, his thoughts went to the kiss they’d shared.

He’d thought about it so many times since then. The memory alone of Jesper’s tongue slipping into his mouth sent a hot surge of desire through him. Jesper said he wanted to do it again, and it was so tempting to give in.

But he couldn’t.

Wylan looked away.

He couldn’t kiss Jesper again with his secret looming between them. Not until he’d made himself so useful he could be sure he wouldn’t be discarded once Jesper learned that he was—he forced back the memory of some of the descriptions his father might use—the way he was. He couldn’t bear to cross that line a second time if it might all be taken away from him.

“Anyway,” Jesper said, “now that you’ve made me cookies, I believe I made a promise in return.”

Wylan frowned. “You did?”

“You forgot?” Jesper put his hand over his heart. “You wound me, merchling. I said I’d make waffles for you.”

The memory of their conversation in quarantine shook Wylan from his unhappy thoughts, and he laughed. “That’s right, you said you made a waffle before. One waffle.”

Jesper grinned. “Well you’re getting a whole plate of waffles.” He stood up and stretched. “I’ll go out and get the ingredients.”

“Wait,” Wylan said. “We were both out yesterday, and we have plenty of food. I’m not sure making waffles counts as essential business.”

“Fulfilling my promise to you _is_ essential.”

Wylan frowned.

He expected it to turn into an argument, but Jesper rolled his eyes and sat down again. “Fine, merchling, fine. Once we actually have _essential_ business to go out for, then I’ll get everything I need to make you waffles. Fair?”

Wylan smiled. “Fair.”

#

They made it through the entire day and night without any incidents, and slept close together once again, but the next evening, Wylan could tell Jesper was getting fidgety.

He bit his lip. They could only find so many ways to keep themselves occupied with what they had on hand, and he was running out of ideas for how to distract Jesper—without crossing that line, at least. He felt so useless, unable to help someone he cared about so much.

Jesper looked at the door.

Wylan sighed. It was starting again.

“I’m trying, Wy.”

“I know.”

“You don’t know what this feels like.”

No, but he understood it was an urge Jesper had trouble resisting even when he wanted to. Wylan closed his eyes and racked his brain. There had to be something he could to do help him.

“I don’t want to gamble tonight,” Jesper said. “But… I do. And it’s hard for me to overcome that part, especially when I’m cooped up the rest of the time.”

Wylan owed him a portrait, but that might not help at a time like this. He opened his eyes. “What would be enough to distract you, Jes?”

Sadness tinged Jesper’s smile. “Not sitting around here, that’s for sure.” His fingers drummed against the table. “Something exciting. Something to get my heart racing.”

The lack of any innuendo emphasized just how much he was struggling.

If only Wylan could provide the sort of excitement he needed. Jesper craved action and thrills. He thrived on those things. With a sinking feeling, Wylan realized he’d never be enough for him, no matter how hard he tried.

Jesper needed someone like Kaz, not someone like Wylan.

“How about more target practice?” he said, the only thing he could think of that came close to what Jesper needed without it involving intense danger and illegal activities.

But those were the things Jesper wanted.

He could never live the life Wylan dreamed of, a peaceful life where they spent their days together in quiet happiness without being shot at or chased.

Each realization stabbed through his heart. He enjoyed living with Jesper. He wanted to stay with him. He wanted… He wanted…

Ghezen, why did he always want things he couldn’t have?

“Might as well give it a try,” Jesper said. “Let’s go.”

#

Outside, in the same alley he’d used for target practice before, Jesper set up a line of bottles. It should prove to be a little distraction, at least. If nothing else, it might cheer up Wylan to see him try. The other boy seemed unusually downhearted about the situation tonight.

Probably afraid Jesper would leave again.

Once the targets were ready, Jesper glanced back at the other boy. The merchling stared down at the ground, his expression subdued. There was no trace of that smile Jesper loved so much, and he knew it was his fault. Wylan deserved so much better than a sharpshooter with a gambling addiction.

He deserved someone who would make him happy.

It had been a quite a long time ago that Jesper first admitted, at least secretly to himself, that his gambling was indeed a problem, but it never bothered him this much before. There was guilt, there was frustration, there was the sense that things were falling apart—but he could laugh those things off and move on.

But seeing it hurt Wylan ripped into him. If he didn’t get this under control, he’d never be able to take Wylan into his arms like he wanted to.

_I’m sorry. I’m better than this. Please don’t give up on me._ All the things he wanted to say got caught in his throat. He couldn’t beg for Wylan’s affection. That wasn’t the sort of relationship he wanted. He needed to improve himself and fight this thing as hard as he could.

And for the moment, that meant target practice.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If he got himself distracted enough, it would work. “Mind if we make this a little more fun?”

Wylan blinked at him. “How?”

“I bet you I can hit all the targets from…” Jesper backed up until he was at the very edge of the usual range he shot from in practice. “…here.”

“What are you betting?” Wylan asked.

Jesper smirked.

“Uh-oh,” Wylan said.

“What do you mean, ‘uh-oh’?”

“Whenever you look at me like that, you’re about to say something dirty.”

Jesper laughed. “I’m not going to ask for anything inappropriate, merchling.”

The other boy raised his eyebrows. “Then what are you hoping to win from this bet?”

“If I make all the shots,” Jesper said, with a pause for extra drama, “you give me a backrub before we go to sleep tonight.”

To his delight, Wylan’s face flooded crimson. “That’s—”

“It’s perfectly innocent,” Jesper said. “There’s nothing lewd about someone’s back.”

“I don’t know how to give a backrub,” Wylan said.

Jesper was relishing every minute of this. Things were starting to get back on track between the two of them. “You’ll figure it out.”

“And what if you don’t make the shots?” Wylan asked after a moment.

Ah! He was going along with it. Jesper grinned. “You can pick what happens.”

Wylan hesitated, his gaze suddenly sad again.

Oh no. He’d request something like a promise not to go gambling again, wouldn’t he? No promise in the world, bound to a bet or anything else, was any more guarantee than the vows Jesper had already tried to make.

But instead, Wylan said, “If you miss, I want you to teach me how to shoot.”

Jesper stared at him. “You want me to _what_?”

“I want to be able to defend myself.”

“Right,” Jesper said with a laugh to hide his shock, “you can’t just whip up some explosives whenever someone corners you.”

“Then it’s a deal?”

“Deal.”

Yet as he lined up to take his shots, the bet troubled him. On one hand, he liked the thought of teaching Wylan to fight. On the other hand, he shouldn’t have to. Wylan should be studying somewhere or performing beautiful music in front of an audience. This shouldn’t be the sort of worry that crossed his mind.

Jesper aimed and fired at the first target.

He’d make each shot. He always did. He knew it with a deep sort of confidence that went beyond his usual cocky attitude. As he fired, he even took a second to glance back at Wylan to see his reaction.

The other boy watched with rapt attention. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his eyes shone with excitement. His admiration—and dare Jesper hope _attraction_?—was evident.

A pang ran through Jesper.

Wylan shouldn’t be in this life. But for better or worse, this was where he’d ended up, and it didn’t seem like he was going away any time soon. He’d be living in danger, and the thought of losing him scared Jesper more than anything else.

As much as he wanted Wylan’s hands on him, he needed his merchling to be safe.

Jesper angled his last shot the tiniest bit. It skimmed past the target and hit the wall.

“Missed,” he said with a sigh. “You win the bet.”

Wylan frowned, but didn’t object as Jesper set up a new line of bottles and beckoned him to stand much closer.

“Here.” He held out one of his guns.

It was the second time he’d handed it to Wylan, and the sight of the other boy holding his gun made his heart flutter. Jesper didn’t hand them over to just anyone. Pretty much no one, in fact. Yet even though Wylan looked nervous and uncertain, it felt strangely intimate.

“What now?”

“Let me show you.”

He moved behind Wylan to help him arrange his grip on the gun and line up the target, and Wylan stepped back so that his back was pressed against Jesper’s chest.

Jesper’s breath hitched. This might be better than the backrub in more ways than one. He resisted the urge to cuddle Wylan against him, and instead closed his hand over Wylan’s on the gun.

“You line up your shot like this…” He ducked to see the targets from Wylan’s eye level and aimed accordingly. “…and then pull the trigger.” He squeezed Wylan’s finger over the trigger.

The recoil made Wylan jerk back against him, but the shot hit its target.

“Now you try,” Jesper said with a grin.

A moment later, he realized Wylan was trembling against him.

“Wy?”

“No, you’re right. I don’t know if I can…” Wylan clumsily aimed and fired. His shot went wildly askew and didn’t hit anywhere near the target. His cheeks flared with embarrassment, and not in the usual cute way.

“Not bad for a first try,” Jesper said. “We’re all like that at the start.”

“Yeah.” Wylan sounded sad again. He gave Jesper back his gun.

Jesper wrapped one arm around his shoulders. “Let’s go back inside.”

It had been a welcome distraction after all, and it also gave Jesper a new goal—work toward a life where Wylan didn’t have to fight. Preferably one that involved a handsome sharpshooter around to protect him. Yes, Wylan could sit at home and do science or music or whatever else was buzzing around that brain of his, and Jesper could handle any necessary shooting.

That sounded like a life worth fighting for.


	11. Chapter 11

Wylan woke up in his favorite place—nestled close to Jesper with his back firmly against the other boy’s chest and one strong arm loosely around him. Sometimes there was a bit of awkwardness when they woke up pressed together like this, but that was a fair price for sleeping in Jesper’s arms. He felt safe there. It let him imagine a life where they could live like this forever.

If only he was the sort of person who could keep up with Jesper. But he couldn’t. Even his attempt to learn how to shoot had gone miserably, with him shaking and unable to try again. Jesper probably thought he was pathetic.

A few days had passed since then, and Jesper hadn’t said a word about it. He probably didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

He hadn’t gone out gambling, either, but that seemed to be because he was putting in a special effort. It was because of his willpower, not anything to do with Wylan.

Wylan rolled over to look at the other boy’s face. His lips were curved into a slight smile as he slept, and the sight made Wylan’s heart race. Was it so wrong to want this every day?

Living with Jesper permanently, as a couple… Too often, these days, his thoughts drifted to what such a hypothetical life together might be like. They’d probably both need to work to make a living in the Barrel—preferably legitimate work, without being shot at, although he wasn’t sure if Jesper would be okay with that.

Meanwhile, for himself… well, if he wanted to be indulgent in his daydream, he would be an artist or musician. That felt unrealistic, though. Finding work thanks to his knowledge of chemistry seemed much more plausible.

Every morning, he and Jesper would wake up together in bed like this, in each other’s arms, and eat breakfast together. Then he’d kiss Jesper on the cheek before they each headed out to work.

No matter what he ended up doing for work, even if it was related to art, he’d probably spend part of the day wishing he was with Jesper. Finally the time would come, and Wylan would return home. Jesper would ask how his day went and truly, honestly care, and Wylan would do the same. They’d eat dinner together, just a quiet meal shared together most days, but maybe under candlelight for special occasions.

He closed his eyes.

Their nights together would be quite different from what they were currently. The two of them would—the very thought made him blush—make love all night long before finally falling asleep.

He could only imagine what that would be like. He doubted he’d be very good in Jesper’s estimation, but Jesper, on the other hand, could likely turn him to jelly with those strong, skilled hands of his…

“Having a good dream?”

Wylan jumped and snapped his eyes open. Jesper lay awake, watching him with a smirk.

“Oh, so you weren’t sleeping, huh? What put such a smile on your face, then?” Jesper laughed and leaned close. “Thinking about me?”

Wylan blushed.

That part probably wouldn’t change. Jesper would still tease him and make him blush all the time, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chuckling at his reaction, the other boy sat up and stretched. The motion lifted his shirt slightly to expose a tantalizing glimpse of bare skin. After all this time, they still slept fully clothed, which suddenly felt frustrating. Not that Wylan expected more, but it wouldn’t be _bad_ if Jesper slept with his shirt off.

Of course, suggesting it would bring them back around to the kissing conversation, and he wasn’t ready for that yet. The time wasn’t _right._ He needed to prove to Jesper that he was useful, and then—only then—he could admit the truth.

Maybe it would work out. Maybe he could have that lovely future he dreamed up. Living together, loving each other, sharing quiet moments in the mornings…

“Well,” Jesper said, “I’m off.”

“Off?”

“We’re running low on food. Time to go buy the essentials.” Jesper winked. “And everything we need to make waffles.”

Wylan laughed. “Okay.”

“I won’t be gone long.”

“I’ll be here,” Wylan said, and kissed Jesper on the cheek.

They both froze.

Oh no.

No way.

He hadn’t done that. He _couldn’t_ have done that. Just because it was something he’d imagined if they had a domestic life together…

“I… I…” His cheeks burned as he attempted to stammer out an explanation. “I don’t know why I…”

A huge grin spread across Jesper’s face. “I’ll hurry back to you, Wy. Try not to miss me _too_ much.” He winked and sauntered away from the bed.

Wylan covered his burning cheeks. It was too much to hope Jesper would forget about this.

#

Jesper was absolutely delighted as he strode through the streets of Ketterdam. He made sure to keep distance between himself and everyone else like the restrictions said, and he kept his eyes open for any danger, but his thoughts kept coming back to one thing.

Wylan had kissed him.

Without prompting, without teasing, without anything but apparently his own impulse.

He’d _kissed_ him.

A kiss on the cheek wouldn’t normally make Jesper so excited. It wasn’t a particularly thrilling thing. Yet… that was part of what made it special. Wylan kissed him on the cheek like it was perfectly natural, which made Jesper _very_ curious about what he’d been thinking about while he lay there smiling alongside him.

Unfortunately, that made his reticence about whether or not he wanted Jesper to kiss him again all the more frustrating—and puzzling.

Jesper had promised himself he’d be patient with Wylan, but if the other boy clearly wanted to kiss him, why didn’t he say so?

Maybe… Maybe he thought Jesper didn’t actually want to be in a relationship with him.

Jesper’s footsteps slowed as he considered the matter. He’d hinted as strongly as he could that he wanted a serious relationship, but he supposed it probably didn’t make a lot of sense from Wylan’s perspective. Him, Jesper Fahey, settling down… and not settling down with just anyone, but with a wide-eyed merchling who belonged in a completely different world, a place where he could put his smarts and goodness to work for the well-being of everyone.

But when Jesper thought about their days together, he wanted to try. Wylan wasn’t like anyone else. He was like a sun, pulling Jesper toward his light with irresistible force.

He was trying so hard, too. Wylan had been forced out of his normal life and cast into a world of violence and treachery because his father tried to murder him. No one would blame him if he’d curled in on himself and found a place to hide, making himself as inconsequential as possible.

That wasn’t what Wylan did, though. He was finding new talents and making the most of them. When Kaz asked him to make a bomb, he improved upon the idea. When Jesper showed him his guns, he thought of ways to make them better. Even when it came to Jesper’s gambling addiction, something he had no way of fixing, he’d done everything in his power over the last few days to distract Jesper and give him an anchor.

Wylan put 110% effort into everything he tried—and even more amazingly, the Barrel somehow hadn’t managed to wipe out his inherent goodness yet.

Jesper doubted he was good enough for someone like Wylan, and he wasn’t sure if what he felt was really love or just infatuation due to the time they’d spent together.

But Saints, when he finally had something so good within his reach, he ought to at least try to grasp it. He couldn’t let this go and pretend it meant nothing to him. Even if Wylan wasn’t ready, he might at least give a reason this time.

Jesper took a deep breath. Today was the day.

He’d make waffles for his merchling, and then he’d put his heart on the line.

#

Wylan had managed to compose himself by the time Jesper returned home, although he still blushed the moment the other boy walked into the room.

“I have everything we need,” Jesper said. “It’s waffle day!”

No comment about the kiss? Wylan breathed again. “I can’t wait.”

Jesper winked. “Your mouth is in for a treat.”

Wylan covered his face. Either Jesper could make the most innocent thing sound suggestive or his own thoughts were determined to read innuendo into his comments. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

Jesper whistled as he got everything set up to make the waffles.

“What should I do?” Wylan asked. “Can I help?”

The other boy fixed him with a mock frown and wagged his finger. “I promised to make waffles for you. That means I have to do it myself, with no interference.”

Wylan rolled his eyes. “Then I’ll put away the other things you bought.”

While he put away the essentials and checked over their food supplies to make sure they weren’t missing anything critical, Jesper got to work. That same warmth from the morning washed over Wylan again. There was something oddly comforting about cleaning up and organizing things while the other boy cooked. He doubted Jesper had shared these simple tasks with many people before.

Once he finished, he sat down and started to sketch. Just a few, quick drawings of Jesper as he made waffles.

Soon the other boy was up to his elbows in batter, and while Wylan wasn’t entirely sure that was how waffle-making was supposed to go, it did make for some good sketches. He grinned as he attempted to capture the mingled intensity and sweetness of Jesper wielding a mixing spoon.

A sharp knock came at the door.

Wylan froze. However, a second knock never came. Instead, an envelope was shoved inside.

“Mail?” Jesper asked from where he stood with the waffles. “Could you go get that?”

Wylan hurried over and picked up the envelope. “It looks like a letter for you,” he said, since he knew it wasn’t his own name written on the front.

Jesper looked helplessly at his batter-covered hands. “I guess we should check it, just in case it’s important. Mind opening it to see what it’s about?”


	12. Chapter 12

Wylan stood frozen.

Jesper continued to work on the waffles, oblivious to the chaos his request caused, but finally glanced back at him. “Wy? The letter?”

“I…”

The envelope burned Wylan’s fingers. Of course a letter would arrive when Jesper was busy. Of _course_ it would.

He needed an excuse, fast.

“I shouldn’t read your mail.” He set it down on the table and backed away. “It’s yours. It might be private. I’ll just leave it here for you.”

Jesper laughed. “Come on, merchling, I don’t have secrets from you.” He paused, and his gaze softened. “Or at least, I don’t want to have secrets from you.”

This was a terrible time for Jesper to get sentimental and trusting, yet Wylan’s heart skipped a beat nevertheless. “Privacy is important,” he said. “We should respect each other’s privacy.”

“Merchling, I swear I will respect your privacy completely from now on. But seriously, I don’t mind you reading my mail. I’ll finish up the waffles, so just see what that is, okay?”

No, no, no, this was all wrong. Wylan couldn’t breathe. He had a _plan_. He had to make himself useful to Jesper first, and then he’d carefully and cautiously reveal the truth to him. It couldn’t just come out of nowhere like this. He hadn’t proven how useful he could be yet. He still came across as a weak, useless merchling—far too useless to reveal that he couldn’t read.

His plan was crumbling around him, and with it, his dream of being with Jesper.

“What’s the problem, Wy?” Jesper sounded baffled. “Why won’t you read it?”

Even though he meant it kindly, even though he didn’t know, the question echoed too many similar questions from Wylan’s father over the years of failed lessons. _What is the problem? Why won’t you cooperate? Just read the page, Wylan. A child can do this. Read it for me._

The world spun and Wylan’s vision constricted.

Jesper didn’t mean it like that.

He didn’t.

But still, Wylan felt like he might be sick.

_Can’t you even read something as simple as this? Why was I cursed with such an idiot for a son? Do you want people to know you’re a moron?_

There was no escaping it this time. Wylan couldn’t talk his way out of it. He’d need to tell Jesper the truth.

Then Jesper would know how pathetic he really was.

_I’m doing this for your own good. How do you think people will treat you if they find out?_

His father’s voice pressed in upon him, almost like he was there in the room, drowning out everything else, including whatever Jesper was saying. Through tunneled vision, Wylan watched him hastily washing the waffle batter from his hands.

He probably thought something was _wrong_ , not that the boy he thought he knew was an idiot liar.

Suddenly, Jesper was right in front of him. “Wy?” His hands closed around Wylan’s shoulders, gentle yet firm. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t,” he said through numb lips.

“What?”

“I can’t read it.” Everything felt surreal, like none of this was really happening. The world frayed around him as he spoke. “I can’t read.”

“You can’t read?”

Of course Jesper wouldn’t expect that from his precious genius. “I tried to learn, but it was impossible. Nothing he tried worked.”

None of this was happening the way it was supposed to. Wylan had a speech prepared to make sure it wouldn’t sound so bad. His entire plan had fallen to pieces.

“I’m sorry, Wy. I had no idea. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Jesper squeezed his shoulders and then turned aside to pick up the letter. “Hey, this is actually good news! It’s an official notice. Looks like they’re expecting we’ll only have to stay in lockdown for another week or so. Then we’ll be able to go out and about again. I bet Kaz will be pleased to hear that.”

His words ran past Wylan like a river rushing over rocks. Why was he acting like things were normal?

“Wylan?” Jesper turned back and smirked. “Don’t worry, I won’t kick you out once lockdown lifts. All of this is yours for as long as you want it.” He clapped his hands together. “Now, let’s get these waffles cooking!”

Wylan stared at him.

“Wy?”

“Say something,” he said.

Jesper’s eyes widened. “I said I was sorry.”

Why was _he_ apologizing when Wylan had revealed his secret? “Don’t pretend I didn’t just—” He couldn’t breathe again. He squeezed his eyes shut and looked away.

“I didn’t know you couldn’t read.”

Wylan struggled to get air. “I was going to tell you.”

He wanted to beg. He wanted to plead with Jesper to not see him as worthless, and remind him of all the things he could do to make up for his inadequacies. But it all seemed so meaningless, and it would make him nothing but a small, weak child begging for affection and respect he had no right to have.

“I told you there was a reason,” he said instead. “Now you know.”

“What?”

“Nothing worked. That’s why he got rid of me.”

Jesper frowned at him for a moment, and then fury contorted his face. “Those letters,” he said under his breath. “That monster…”

Wylan shook his head. “He’s not.”

“He tried to kill you!”

“What else was he supposed to do with a son like me?”

Jesper spluttered for a moment, with no intelligible words coming out, and then finally said, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe _love_ you because you’re his _son_?”

“You don’t understand,” Wylan said. He hated repeating his father’s words, but it had been explained to him often enough, and Jesper clearly didn’t get it. “He has a business to run. He needs an heir who can manage it after him.”

The other boy exhaled slowly. “Let’s pretend I buy that. Okay, so you can’t be his heir. That’s still no excuse for murder.”

Wylan frowned at him. “But—”

“He claimed he was sending you to music school, right? Why not do that for real? So you couldn’t take over the business, fine. What’s so bad about having a musician for a son?”

“Because people might have found out,” Wylan said, anguished. Every second of this conversation tore open the wounds in his heart he’d long since learned to ignore.

“Then he _is_ a monster.”

“No, Jes—listen. Maybe my father went too far. But… but imagine what it must have been like for him. Watching me grow up year after year, seeing me make no progress, trying to help and coming up empty-handed. All that disappointment and the constant fear that someone would learn the truth, it—”

The disbelief on Jesper’s face grew with each word, and then he suddenly exploded. “You want me to imagine that and feel bad for _him_?”

“He did his best.”

“He did _not_ do his best!” Jesper shook his head. “Look at me. I’ve got gambling problems and a whole lot of other issues. I’ve caused so much trouble for my da over the years. I must be a disappointment to him. I’m sure he wished he had a better son. But you know what? He never tried to kill me.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?”

Did he really not see it? “Because your problems can be fixed,” Wylan said. “But I… I’m just _broken._ ”

Saying it out loud hurt. All the pain and fear and loneliness threatened to overwhelm him. Tears prickled his eyes—because he needed to look even weaker in front of Jesper right now—and Wylan pushed roughly past him to reach the bed, where he flopped facedown and let the pillow hide his shame.

He was a fool to think he’d ever be anything more than a weak, defective disappointment of a son who would always be a blot on the Van Eck name.

Why had he fought so hard for his life when those men tried to kill him? He should have let them do it. Why fight to protect something worth so little?

The bed shifted with Jesper’s weight, and Wylan tensed, but the other boy didn’t try to restart their argument. Instead, he said softly, “You’re not broken, Wylan.”

Wasn’t he?

“You’re a brilliant chemist, an amazing artist, and an incredible musician… who happens to not be able to read. And even if none of those things were true, you’re good and kind and generous. You deserve happiness, Wy, and he was wrong for what he did to you.”

And as Wylan cried, he clung to Jesper’s words and tried to believe they were true.


	13. Chapter 13

Jesper woke up the next morning with Wylan nestled against his chest. His anxiety from the previous day eased, and he breathed a sigh of relief. After their conversation yesterday, Wylan been despondent and nearly unresponsive for the rest of the day, until Jesper worried he might not come out of it. He wrapped his arms tighter around the other boy. If Wylan had moved closer during the night, that might be a sign of improvement.

Wylan…

The amount of pain and fear he’d shown yesterday scared Jesper.

When he first said he couldn’t read, Jesper assumed his distress was his fault. By asking him to read the letter, he’d struck at one of Wylan’s vulnerabilities without realizing it. It took a little while before he understood _why_ Wylan kept it a secret and realized his pain went much deeper than an ill-chosen request.

Jesper looked down at the tousled curls under his chin and sighed.

Since their time in quarantine when they first started sleeping in the same bed, he’d thought it was cute that Wylan got flustered at the slightest hint of intimacy but then cuddled close at night. He’d assumed it was shyness that kept Wylan from initiating or accepting such contact during the day.

But now he worried it was something much sadder.

Maybe Wylan didn’t seek out physical affection because he thought he didn’t _deserve_ it. Only at night, either because it was unconscious or because he could pretend it was, did he allow himself closeness. Maybe that was why he wouldn’t say if he wanted Jesper to kiss him again, or if he wanted them to be together.

So many little oddities in Wylan’s behavior struck Jesper like an anvil. Wylan thought he wasn’t good enough for him. He thought he wasn’t good enough to be loved.

Van Eck would pay for doing this to him.

Hatred filled Jesper as he thought about the man who had made this precious ray of sunshine view himself as worthless. Trying to kill Wylan was evil enough, but crushing the gentle merchling’s self-esteem made it seem so much worse. Jesper wanted to hunt him down and make him suffer for every moment of pain he’d inflicted on his son.

But Van Eck was out of reach and Wylan was right there, so Jesper would do whatever he could to help Wylan, instead.

He’d eaten the waffles himself after it was clear he wouldn’t be able to rouse Wylan, so today they’d get more waffles to share together. It would be Wylan’s day. Waffles, cuddling, any sort of pampering that might ease the pain from—

Wait.

Sudden unease crept into Jesper’s mind, fueled by the unpleasant ways Wylan had described himself during their argument. He tried to imagine what he would feel like in that position. He didn’t quite have a comparable situation, but the gambling problem was as close as he could get.

If, after he admitted to Wylan that he had a gambling addiction, Wylan had suddenly started treating him especially nice, Jesper probably would have taken it as pity.

That was a definite danger here. No matter how good his intentions were, if he treated Wylan differently today, he’d take it as a sign that he pitied him for not being able to read. Saints alone knew how twisted it would become in his mind.

Right then, no special treatment. Even though he wanted to comfort Wylan until all the pain went away, he’d treat him exactly as he always did—just with a little more caution if he made any jokes. No cracks about him being useless or stupid, not even if he meant it in a harmless way. Plenty of flirting. And, in light of his new suspicions about Wylan’s late-night cuddling, he’d do his best to coax him into more contact during the day.

Wylan made a small sound in his sleep, the first nightmare he’d suffered in a long while, and Jesper stroked his arms gently. “Shh, merchling. I’m here.”

And in that moment, he knew.

Because this wasn’t going to be easy. The pain Wylan showed yesterday had to be something he felt often, just hidden away behind a strong front. It wasn’t the sort of thing Jesper could solve with a few kisses and caresses and sweet words. There was a deep poison in Wylan that skewed his view of himself. It would rise up again and again, and as Wylan questioned his self-worth, he’d put barriers between them regardless of how he felt about Jesper.

Usually, that sort of obstacle would scare him away from a relationship. But this was different. Wylan was worth that much effort.

Jesper was in love with him.

#

Wylan kept his eyes closed when he woke up. Jesper’s arms were around him. He was warm and safe. He could pretend the previous day’s conversation hadn’t happened. As long as he kept his eyes shut, he didn’t have to face the fact that Jesper knew he couldn’t read.

Being in his arms felt so good, too.

He savored the sense of protection and comfort and tried not to let his anxieties overwhelm him. Seconds stretched into minutes. The minutes ran together into a warm eternity that still wasn’t enough. He wondered how long he could get away with it before it became obvious he must have woken up.

“You know,” Jesper said, “you can just ask if you want to be snuggled, instead of pretending to be asleep. These arms are waiting for you anytime.”

Wylan jerked upright and opened his eyes. “How did you know?”

Jesper’s smirk and heated gaze made his heart race. “Your breathing changes when you’re awake.”

“I’ve been awake for a little while now.”

“I know.”

Wylan blushed furiously. “You didn’t say anything!”

“Why deprive you?” Jesper winked. “Then I remembered that cuddling is actually much more fun when both people are awake.”

Although he’d sat up, he hadn’t disentangled himself entirely from the other boy. One of Jesper’s arms remained looped loosely around his waist. Ghezen, this felt nice. Wylan cleared his throat and reluctantly left the bed.

“What,” Jesper said, “no kiss?”

Wylan’s ears grew hot. After the letter incident, he’d forgotten about his mortifying slip-up yesterday morning.

“I only get a kiss when I go out for essential business?”

“That was, um…”

“I know what it was,” Jesper said with a grin. “It was a kiss.”

Wylan couldn’t say he hadn’t meant to do it, because even though that was true, it would sound like he didn’t want to kiss him. “I still need to think,” he said instead.

“Understood. So that was sort of like practice? Testing the waters to see if you like it after all?” Jesper winked again. “Practice on me any time you like.”

He didn’t a word about the previous day’s revelation. Wylan’s hands trembled as he fumbled around for a change of clothes. If Jesper wasn’t going to mention it, maybe he should pretend it hadn’t happened. Maybe it was better that way. “What are we going to do today?”

Jesper stretched and got out of bed. “For starters, I owe you waffles.”

Waffles. The incident crashed in upon Wylan again, and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“You made waffles for me, and I just… I…”

“Oh yes, such a terrible day it was.” The other boy put his hand over his heart. “After you went to sleep, I was forced to eat all those delicious waffles myself.”

He could joke about it, but the fact remained that he’d done something kind and Wylan was too busy wallowing in self-pity to accept it. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You don’t have to make more waffles for me. I’m so—”

“Sweet.”

The word _stupid_ froze on Wylan’s tongue. “What? Sweet?” Even as polite as Jesper was being, he couldn’t work that one out.

Jesper leaned close and tapped him on the nose. “You’re so sweet, merchling, that you’re apologizing because I ate your waffles.”

He blushed. “You really don’t have to make more waffles for me, though. It’s my own fault I missed the last ones.”

Jesper rolled his eyes. “Fine, do you want to make it up to me?”

“Yes!”

“You _really_ want to make it up to me?”

That teasing note in his voice always made Wylan’s heart race, but this time it was coupled by the hope that he could start making up for his failings. If there was something Jesper _wanted_ , instead of just giving meaningless assurances that everything was fine, Wylan could prove himself useful after all. “Yes, I do!”

“Fine.” Jesper smirked. “Then since I ate waffles all by myself yesterday, you can eat yours while sitting in my lap.”

#

A few hours later, Jesper had a fresh batch of waffles and a merchling in his lap, and he couldn’t quite decide if things were going according to plan or if his new idea was completely off-base. Aggressively flirting Wylan out of his unhappiness might not work.

On the other hand, Wylan had complied, and Jesper made sure to greet his arrival with enough whistling and suggestive remarks to sway it firmly enough toward something _he_ wanted to avoid his concerns that Wylan might take comfort to be pity—while trying to walk the line of giving Wylan the physical affection he seemed to crave without making it obvious that he was trying to.

“This is ridiculous,” Wylan said, as he tried to balance his plate of waffles.

“I could hold that for you.” Jesper curled his arms around Wylan to grasp the plate. “Better?”

“Um…” Wylan’s cheeks turned bright pink.

“If you really don’t like this, we don’t have to do it,” Jesper said.

“I told you that’s never the issue.”

“Then you _do_ like it?”

“Wh-Who wouldn’t like sitting in your lap?” Wylan asked, his voice barely more than a squeak.

When he tried to flirt back, it was _adorable._ Jesper brought his lips to Wylan’s ear. “Well that’s too bad for them, because there’s only one person who’ll get to sit in my lap for the foreseeable future.”

“Right,” Wylan said. “Everyone has to stay six feet apart.”

Jesper let out a startled laugh. “No, merchling, there are other reasons why you’re the only one getting this pleasure.”

Wylan’s cheeks reddened further, and he started eating his waffles. “Hey, these are good!”

“Did you expect anything less?”

“Of course not.” He took another bite and shifted into a more comfortable position.

Jesper bit back a strangled sound.

“Jes?”

“Let me have just one bite,” Jesper said, in an attempt to distract himself from his body’s stubborn refusal to behave.

Wylan smiled and held out a forkful of waffles to him.

Oh no, this was actually making matters _worse._ Jesper took a bite and tried not to panic. Having Wylan wiggling around on his lap while looking at him with those beautiful eyes was a very dangerous idea, and any minute it would become too obvious for Wylan not to _notice_ what a bad idea this was.

Which would be worse—abruptly making an excuse to get Wylan out of his lap as fast as possible, or waiting to see if Wylan would be offended when he—

Wylan’s sudden stillness and the blush creeping over his face told Jesper he’d run out of time to decide.

“You’re, um, _enjoying_ this, aren’t you?” Wylan asked.

At least he didn’t seem upset. “I _always_ enjoy having you close to me.”

Wylan blushed even harder. “Should I move?”

Oh, the eternal struggle, to innuendo or not to innuendo. Since their relationship still had so many questions, Jesper forced back all the suggestive comments that came to mind. “If you’re comfortable staying like this, I certainly don’t mind. But if you’re not, I won’t be insulted.”

“I, um…” Wylan cleared his throat awkwardly, then grabbed his plate of waffles and slid off of Jesper’s lap. “I think I’ll sit _next_ to you.”

“Sorry about this, merchling.”

Still blushing, Wylan glanced up. “I mean, it’s not like it’s the first time.”

“What?”

“We’ve been sleeping in the same bed for a while now. You mean you never realized that sometimes in the mornings…”

Of course he had, but he’d assumed he’d always managed to put enough distance between them in time to keep Wylan from noticing.

“How innocent do you think I _am_ , Jes?” Wylan sounded faintly irritated. “It’s not like I don’t understand. Sometimes when I—” He abruptly cleared his throat and shoved a waffle in his mouth.

Whoa, wait, what? Jesper leaned close. “Sometimes when you what, merchling?”

“Nothing!” Wylan said through a mouthful of waffles.

Jesper snickered. He’d have mercy and let it go this time. At least Wylan wasn’t offended or upset. And at least he wasn’t talking about his inability to read or calling himself broken.

This plan might work out fine after all.


	14. Chapter 14

Wylan carefully put the finishing touches on his enhancements to Jesper’s revolvers. A few days had passed since he ate waffles in Jesper’s lap, and not much had changed between them, yet he kept fighting the urge to smile for no reason.

Maybe it was _because_ things hadn’t changed a lot. His secret had been revealed, yet life went on as usual. Jesper treated him exactly the way he always did, to the point where Wylan sometimes worried he’d dreamed the incident with the letter.

“Here.” He double-checked to make sure he’d put the guns back together correctly and handed them to Jesper. “You’ll be able to shoot faster now. Not a _lot_ faster, but—”

“Just enough to give me an edge.” Jesper winked.

Having an edge in gunfights wasn’t exactly the sort of thing Wylan wanted to think about, but on the other hand, it would keep Jesper safer. If it was a question of Jesper shooting someone versus being killed himself, Wylan would improve any number of guns for him.

Jesper twirled his guns and strode toward the door. “I think I’ll test them out, get in a little practice. You coming?”

“Not this time,” Wylan said. “I’d rather stay in for now.”

“Suit yourself. Join me if you change your mind.”

The door closed behind him, and Wylan let out a long breath. Part of him wanted to go with Jesper, not only for the show, but also because that was simply what they did nowadays. However, he knew that wasn’t always good. Neither of them was getting out too often, and when they did, it was only for brief periods of time. No matter how much they enjoyed each other’s company, it was healthy for both of them to have time apart.

Besides—he looked around the room—he enjoyed the way this place was starting to feel like a home. He didn’t need to go outside when Jesper did, because it was his home too.

Wylan walked around the room and reminded himself that he could. He walked into the adjacent room they used for washing up and thought about how if he really wanted to wash right then, he could. He organized their food supplies and ate a small snack on a whim, just because he could. It was silly, but it made him comfortable.

Then he hesitated—and walked over to the untidy pile of books Jesper kept.

It was simultaneously the most frightening and alluring part of the room. Jesper hadn’t said a word about his… problem… since it first came up. Wylan didn’t want to draw attention to it, so he hadn’t said anything either.

Yet increasingly, he didn’t entirely want to pretend it didn’t exist.

At first, he thought that would be the best thing. Reveal it so he didn’t have to lie anymore and then hope Jesper never thought about it again. Present enough good things about himself that his inability to read could simply be brushed away and forgotten, as if he never revealed the truth about it at all.

But…

_You’re not broken, Wylan._

The gentle things Jesper said to him that day lingered in his mind. Maybe Jesper was just being polite, but Wylan couldn’t stop thinking about it despite his best efforts. Jesper knew the truth, but he still flirted with him, teased him, thanked him when he did something helpful, all without any hint of mockery or condescension like there would have been in his father’s voice.

Maybe, when Jesper said those things, it was how he really felt.

If Jesper really believed what he said, Wylan didn’t want his difficulty reading to remain a dirty little secret he had to keep hidden away, like it always had been before. It was his father who said it was too shameful to tell people about, and Jesper said his father was wrong.

Wylan crouched alongside the stack of books. Wylan crouched alongside the stack of books. He wished he could read the titles. Jesper didn’t seem like a big reader, so he was curious about the sort of books that interested him. From the art on the covers, most of them appeared to be adventure stories, with shootouts and men riding horses. It would be nice to be able to read, not to avoid the shame—his driving motivation for wanting to read all his life—but to enjoy the stories themselves.

People enjoyed reading, and he wanted to be swept away into a tale of excitement and adventure too.

All of the books seemed to be more or less the same—

Wait, at the very bottom of the pile, turned around so the binding faced the wall, was one that didn’t fit with the others at all. It was that book with the erotic pictures he’d noticed when he first arrived.

Was it really what it looked like?

Wylan hesitated, then opened it.

Oh, it _was._ He didn’t need to be able to read the text to figure that out, because it was mostly pictures, all of the same questionable nature as the one that first caught his eye on the cover. No focus on any particular pairings, either. As he flipped through, he saw pictures of men and women, pictures of two men, pictures of—wait, _three_ men together at the same time?

“Now I know why you wanted to stay in.”

Wylan slammed the book shut and scrambled to his feet at the sound of Jesper’s voice. He spun around and tried to nudge the book out of sight behind the rest of the pile.

Jesper smirked. “So this is what Wylan Van Sunshine is into, hmm?”

“No! I was just—”

“Broadening your horizons? Trying to get new ideas?”

“ _No!_ ”

Jesper cracked up laughing. “It’s okay, merchling, I understand.”

“I was just, um…” Okay, the erotic images had caught his attention. And okay, he was curious. “I wondered if it was really, uh…”

“Should I go back outside?” Jesper asked. “Do you want some privacy?”

“No!”

He laughed so hard he doubled over, gasping for breath. “Merchling, I’m sorry for laughing, but the look on your face…”

Wylan blushed. He might never stop blushing again. Of course Jesper would walk in right when he was looking at _that_ book. Of course he would.

On the other hand, he hadn’t made any other comments about Wylan looking at the books. His father would have commented. He wouldn’t have been able to hide his scorn.

He hesitated. “Um, Jesper?”

“Yes?”

This was a gamble, but he took a deep breath and steeled himself. “Would you tell me what one of these books is about?”

Jesper let out a sharp whistle and waggled his eyebrows.

“Not _that_ book.” Wylan grabbed a book from top of the pile. “I meant one of these.”

“That’s a fun one,” the other boy said after a quick glance at the cover. “It’s about a charming sharpshooter who goes around shooting the bad guys and stealing hearts.” He winked. “It gives me something to strive for.”

He certainly excelled at both of those things.

“I, uh…” For a change, Jesper sounded hesitant. “I could read it to you, if you’re interested.”

Wylan stared at him.

“Only if you want to, of course. I think you’d enjoy the story.”

He did want to enjoy a story like that. And… Jesper was acknowledging the issue. Not throwing it in his face, but recognizing it without judgment. That created a warm fuzzy feeling Wylan wasn’t used to. He took a deep breath. “I… I’d like that.”

Jesper smiled. “Great, merchling. Let’s start it tonight.”

#

Jesper sat down that evening with the book. He hoped Wylan enjoyed it, and not just because it featured a dashing sharpshooter. His merchling looked far too nervous for what amounted to sitting down and listening to a fun story. Jesper could only imagine the anxieties tearing him apart. It was a major step forward that he’d had the courage to ask about it at all.

When in doubt, flirt him into distraction. Jesper patted his lap. “Want to try this again?”

Wylan blushed scarlet and sat alongside him.

“If you want me to repeat anything or have any comments about the plot, just interrupt me,” Jesper said. Then he opened the book to the first page and started reading.

It was an exciting story, the sort of fast-paced adventure that didn’t have the deepest plot but featured plenty of dramatic moments and near-escapes for the hero. There was an entire series of books about the same character, printed as cheap paperbacks and released on a regular basis. Jesper picked them up now and then on the rare occasion when he had _kruge_ to spare and felt like reading, but if Wylan enjoyed them, he’d make a special effort to get more.

Wylan’s tension faded as Jesper read. By the time they reached the end of the second chapter, he’d relaxed against his side.

He didn’t interrupt with any questions or comments, but whenever Jesper glanced over at him, he looked invested in what he was hearing. During a fight scene in the third chapter, he even gasped out loud, although a blush crept over his cheeks afterward.

At last, evening approached, and Jesper lowered the book. “Want to stop there and read more tomorrow?”

“Okay,” Wylan said with a shy smile.

“Do you like it so far?”

“Yes, it’s exciting.”

Jesper grinned. “I’ve got a few in this series. We can read another one after we finish, if you like.”

“You don’t have to go through any trouble for me,” Wylan said.

“It’s no trouble. It’s fun.”

“It is?”

“Sure. Watching someone else hear this story for the first time? It’s like experiencing it all over again. I love seeing your reactions.”

“If you enjoy it, then I’d love to hear more.” Wylan cleared his throat. “You have a very good reading voice, you know.”

Jesper wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “Sounds like we’ve got our evenings set, then. A little reading every night until we run out of books!” He paused. “Well, if the restrictions lift soon, Kaz might have other plans for us.”

Wylan smiled up at him. “We’ll just need to make sure we have a new one lined up and ready to go for once we’re back in Ketterdam.”

“Sounds like a plan, merchling.”

Despite his casual words, Jesper’s heart pounded. Wylan had casually referenced the idea of them still living together after finishing the job with the Dregs. He said it like it was natural. He _wanted_ them to stay together, after the restrictions lifted, after their business together was done, after everything.

Not only that, but Jesper had his arm around him and he didn’t object. Come to think of it, he’d sat down close to him without prompting, too. And he’d talked about Jesper reading to him without any self-degrading remarks.

Enjoying a book together might be just what he needed after all.


	15. Chapter 15

Wylan watched Jesper pace.

He could tell it was starting to get to him again. Things had been easier for them lately, since reading together in the evenings had unexpectedly proven to be the distraction Jesper needed. Even when he was pacing like this and glancing toward the door with the clear urge to go out gambling, a request to hear the next chapter was usually enough for him to give Wylan that look that make him melt inside and sit down with the book in hand.

Wylan wasn’t entirely sure _why_ Jesper enjoyed reading to him so much. He claimed it was fun, but it didn’t sound enjoyable.

On the other hand, it did mean they sat close together. Even though Wylan didn’t need to see the pages, it had felt natural on that first day to nestle up against Jesper, and ever since then he didn’t want to change his routine. So Wylan always sat close against his side, and Jesper sometimes put one arm around him, and of course he flirted up a storm. Maybe it was the closeness he liked more than the reading.

But tonight, even that probably wouldn’t be enough. Jesper looked like he was a hairsbreadth away from going out, and they’d finished their book the night before. Starting a new one might not be enough.

If only Wylan was able to— _no._ He forced back his sense of hopelessness. He _was_ able to help Jesper. Ultimately it depended on Jesper himself, and it couldn’t be solved overnight, but his distractions and encouragement _did_ make a difference. He had to believe that.

He’d try his hardest for Jesper no matter how many times he failed.

“You know,” he said, “I still owe you a portrait from our bet.”

Jesper glanced at him. “You want to start it now?”

“If you do.”

“Might as well.” The other boy shrugged, his voice resigned and unenthusiastic. “If I’m not going out, I could at least pose for you.”

Wylan got out the supplies he’d need and tried to force back his worries that this wouldn’t be enough to hold Jesper’s attention tonight.

“So, you ready to expand your talents yet?”

He glanced up. “What?”

Jesper smirked. “You know what I’m talking about. How do you want me for this picture: dressed or undressed?”

Wylan blushed furiously and opened his mouth to protest.

Then he hesitated.

He felt like he was constantly off-balance, unable to keep up in the game they played. For one thing, he always wondered how much of it _was_ a game. Jesper had been flirting more than ever lately—and he seemed to mean something by it. Wylan enjoyed the attention more than he ever admitted out loud, but the moments when he managed to take Jesper by surprise in return were few and far between.

And if he really wanted to distract Jesper…

Maybe throwing him off-balance for a change would do the trick.

Wylan cleared his throat. “Well, now that you mention it”—the sudden widening of Jesper’s eyes was almost worth it on its own—“it would probably make a good portrait if you had your shirt off.”

“ _Really_?” Jesper stared at him as though he thought he’d misheard.

“O-Only if you want to,” Wylan said, his nerve already faltering.

Jesper’s shirt was off in about two seconds. “Where do you want me?”

Anywhere. He wanted Jesper absolutely anywhere. Wylan dragged his gaze away from Jesper’s unfairly-attractive upper body and reminded himself Jesper was asking where he wanted him to _pose._

If he had even half of Jesper’s daring, he might have answered with something like, _On top of me_ , and abandoned the portrait entirely. Because that was where his body was screaming for Jesper’s body to be at the moment.

He cleared his throat and focused on his canvas instead. “You could be, um… on the b-bed.” His already burning cheeks flamed harder at the word _bed_ for no good reason at all.

Jesper snickered. Although Wylan kept his gaze down, he still caught glimpses of beautifully exposed skin as the other boy sauntered past him on his way to the bed.

Right. Art. Portrait. Drawing. Wylan fumbled with trembling fingers to grab the things he needed to start.

“You know you have to look at me for this to work, right, merchling?”

“I’m preparing,” Wylan said. “You don’t want me to rush.”

“Oh no, take your time.” Jesper’s voice grew low and suggestive. “I’ll stay like this for you as long as you want.”

Well, it had certainly distracted him.

Wylan focused on the canvas and started the initial sketches of Jesper from memory, but he really would have to look at him eventually. He took a deep breath. Besides, it would help him draw human anatomy. There was a practical side to it; it wasn’t just about staring at a good-looking man. And Jesper deserved a portrait that did him justice.

He lifted his gaze.

So much smooth, dark skin, and those long arms, muscled just enough to hint at how strong he was, and it would feel so good to touch his biceps and feel his arms close around him in an embrace, and come to think of it that sort of lean-yet-strong build was exactly what Wylan found the sexiest—

He snapped his gaze back down to the canvas.

“Oh you can look longer than that,” Jesper said, his voice practically a purr. “Feast your eyes, merchling.”

Wylan managed a few more details on the sketch, but soon he had no choice but to look up again.

Jesper winked and flexed.

Gaze back on canvas. “Don’t do that!”

“Am I _distracting_ you, merchling?”

“You’re supposed to stay still so I can draw you properly,” Wylan said.

“Fine, I’ll be good.”

He dared to lift his gaze once more.

That same ideal musculature continued across his chest, and his toned stomach, and almost unbidden, Wylan’s gaze followed the lines of his abdomen to the waist of his pants. He drew a sharp breath. Breathe, breathe, it would be beyond embarrassing if he got lightheaded.

_Why did you pass out, Wylan?_

_Oh, I got so distracted by how sexy you are I forgot about breathing._

That wouldn’t do at all.

Wylan quickly focused on the canvas again. Focus. He could do this. Once he got into his art, everything else faded away. He’d give Jesper the best portrait anyone could ever ask for.

#

Jesper bit back the suggestive comment on the tip of his tongue, because it looked like Wylan had finally gotten into his stride at last, and he didn’t want to distract him. Much. It was pretty cute the way he kept blushing and looking away, though.

This was a _lot_ more fun than the first time Wylan drew him. Having Wylan’s gaze on him heated him more than he expected.

When were they going to discuss that kiss again? Jesper knew about the reading issue. That had to be what the major hold-up was before. And Wylan certainly seemed to like what he saw when he dragged his gaze up from the canvas for another blushing reference. Was it a commitment thing, then?

Jesper watched his merchling and couldn’t help but smile. Someday he’d have a life where he could be free to make art and music without a care in the world. For all the excitement Jesper craved, he wanted that, too.

And the most important thing right now was that Wylan was relaxing. The more he got into his art, the less nervous he seemed to be. The tension had drained away from him.

He was becoming more open with his staring, too. Jesper bit his lip to keep from commenting as Wylan’s admiring gaze raked across his chest and stomach and then back up again in ways that almost certainly had nothing to do with making sure his art was accurate enough.

Jesper wanted to comment so badly, but if he did, it might snap Wylan out of his relaxed state and he’d stop doing it. Silence for now to enjoy the staring, teasing later to enjoy the blushing. Best of both worlds.

At last, Wylan lowered his pen and nodded. “This should be good for the first session.”

Jesper got up and bounded over to Wylan—noting the sudden rise of color in the other boy’s cheeks as soon as he was remotely close—and looked at the in-progress portrait. Once again, the sheer quality of Wylan’s art, even for a sketch, was breathtaking. He whistled. “You always make me look even more handsome than I am, and that’s quite a feat.”

“You _are_ that handsome,” Wylan said.

Jesper turned to him with a startled grin. “What was that?”

The other boy spun around. “S-So anyway, it’ll probably take a few sessions before this is complete, since it’s more detailed than the other one.”

Jesper smirked. “I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

“It’s for _art_.”

“Oh, of course. You’ll need to spend a lot of time looking to make sure you get it absolutely right.”

“You want it to be good, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Jesper said. “Especially since I’ll be gifting it to you.”

“Wait, what?”

“You know, so you can look at it before you go to sleep. I know you want to.”

Wylan glanced at him, his cheeks bright red. “W-Why would I need a picture when I can see the real thing?”

Jesper laughed. His merchling was getting bold. “Are you saying I shouldn’t put my shirt on just yet?”

“You can put it back on now,” Wylan said.

“Fine, fine.” Jesper grabbed his shirt and put it back on. Slowly. Wylan still seemed like he was trying to covertly take a peek. “I wouldn’t want to spoil you, after all.”

Wylan blushed, but he didn’t deny liking it.

Maybe it was time to ask about the kiss.

Jesper hesitated.

No, not like this, not so soon after flirting and teasing that he might mistake it for another joke. But later—when the other boy was curled up alongside him for Jesper to read to him—it would be time to get back to that long-overdue conversation.


	16. Chapter 16

Wylan sat down next to Jesper in the evening for the first chapter of the next book in the series. The first book had been thrilling, and he couldn’t wait to hear what sort of adventures the protagonist would get involved with this time. Jesper had such a good reading voice, too. When he started reading, Wylan could close his eyes and get swept away in the story.

Before, anything involving books only brought shame and suffering. But… with Jesper, they became fun instead.

“Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?” Jesper asked.

Wylan stared at him. That had come out of nowhere. “Um, no?” Even Jesper, who showered him with more compliments than he’d ever received in his life, favored words like _cute._

“You really are,” Jesper said, gazing at him in a way that made him blush from the look alone.

“Um…”

“Not as handsome as me, of course,” he said.

Wylan laughed and took the opportunity to admire just how true that was. “We’re starting a new book tonight, right?”

“You know it.”

“I wish I could read it myself.” A second after the words left his lips, he regretted it. He’d tried to avoid saying things like that lately. He could tell it bothered Jesper.

“Liar,” Jesper said. “Then you wouldn’t have an excuse to cuddle up to me like this.”

Wylan blushed and opened his mouth to protest—but stopped himself partway and said instead, “You mean you wouldn’t put your arms around me if I was reading?”

It was always worth the embarrassment just to see Jesper’s surprised grin whenever Wylan flirted back. “I absolutely would, merchling.”

“See?”

“But you’d still miss out on hearing this voice.”

“Fair point.”

“Wy,” he said, his voice suddenly more serious, “once we’re done reading tonight, can we talk about something?”

Wylan swallowed hard. “Y-Yeah, of course.”

He knew what it would be about. With Jesper gazing at him so warmly, there was only one thing it could be. And since Wylan had been tentatively flirting lately, he could hardly claim it was unjustified. It was going to be about their kiss, and the possibility of them being together, and everything else he wanted to discuss but was too afraid to.

He was trying to hide from it, he realized. If he avoided the conversation, they could stay in this in-between state where Jesper held him and teased him without anything official between them, like he could protect his heart by never actually committing. Yet that wasn’t what he wanted forever.

Jesper was right. They needed to finally talk about it.

But first, they had a story to read.

One arm loosely around his shoulders in a comforting embrace, Jesper opened the new book to the first page. “If I remember right, this one has some romance,” he said with a wink. “If you want, I could give you a dramatic reenactment.”

Wylan rolled his eyes. “Just read.”

Jesper complied, and as his low voice filled the room with tales of adventure, Wylan found himself snuggling closer and looking at the pages that meant nothing to him. It would be nice to follow along, or to at least understand why trying to read didn’t work for him the way it did for everyone else. But Jesper didn’t mind reading to him, and it felt good to sit close like this, and maybe it didn’t matter quite as much as Wylan once thought it did.

It was another fast-paced adventure, this time with such danger that Wylan kept requesting another chapter until they finally neared the final pages of the book as sunset approached.

When they reached the conclusion, he let out a squawk of dismay. “What do you mean, he rode off into the sunset alone? What about the heroine? I thought they were in love!”

Jesper chuckled. “Sorry, merchling, but the romances in this series don’t really work that way.”

“What?”

“Every now and then one of the books features a love interest, but it’s always a brief thing. Nothing permanent.”

“Oh.”

“If you don’t like that, we could try something else. Maybe a romance novel with a happily-ever-after and all that?”

Wylan sighed. “Yeah, maybe.”

Yet it felt bad that the story ended that way. He enjoyed the adventure, and he liked the protagonist, and maybe he’d started to conflate him with Jesper just the tiniest bit. Because those sorts of thrills were what Jesper loved too, and it was all too easy to imagine him claiming hearts and then breaking them in the same way.

Wylan didn’t want to be that love interest who appeared in a single story and was forgotten by the next.

“You’re really put out by this, aren’t you?” Jesper sounded baffled. “Is this, uh… a moral thing?”

“What?” Wylan glanced up.

“They didn’t even _do_ anything besides kiss, but is that what this is about? You don’t like hearing about casual relationships?”

He blushed. Were they really going to have this conversation?

Jesper waited.

They really were going to have this conversation.

“It’s not what I’d want for myself,” Wylan said, embarrassed. “I’d want something more permanent—a committed relationship. So… I know it’s silly, but hearing a story where it doesn’t work out that way isn’t really enjoyable to me.”

There, that was a much better way of explaining it than voicing his personal concerns out loud.

To his surprise, Jesper grinned. “ _You’ve_ got nothing to worry about, merchling.”

“Huh?”

“Anyone who met you wouldn’t be able to leave it as only a one-time fling.”

Wylan rolled his eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Okay, anyone worth having wouldn’t let you go, at least.” Jesper winked.

“Do you really believe that?” Wylan asked.

Jesper suddenly looked uncomfortable. “I mean… it’s not like I’m saying any relationship you’d start is guaranteed to work out. No one can guarantee that sort of thing. But… I find it hard to imagine someone being with you and then abandoning you.”

Wylan drew a sharp breath.

There were many things he could say, from pointing out that his own father discarded him easily enough to reminding him that some people just didn’t want a serious relationship. Yet the only clear thought in his head was that the one person in the world he wanted to see him as worth staying with had just said no one would leave him. If that was what he thought, if that was really how he felt—

“I mean it.” Jesper straightened up and turned to face him. “Wylan, I…” He lifted his hand and touched Wylan’s cheek.

His heart pounded. That touch, that one gentle touch, was about to ruin him.

Then a sharp knock at the door destroyed the moment. Jesper lowered his hand, and they both looked over. A letter had been shoved under the door, like the previous time.

“Always the worst timing.” Jesper shook his head and sighed. “I’ll go see what that’s about.”

The sudden absence of his warmth as he stood up made Wylan wrap his arms around himself. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t keep denying his feelings for Jesper. They needed to talk about it.

Jesper opened the letter and then let out a cry of delight. “It’s over, Wy! The restrictions are lifting! Starting tomorrow, we can go out freely again!”

#

Wylan looked around at the room that had become like home to him. There had been a flurry of activity ever since the letter arrived—getting food, reporting to Kaz, making preparations—but fortunately not a word about Wylan moving out.

He didn’t want to. This was home.

Well, not the place itself. Home meant being with Jesper, wherever that happened to be. He wanted to stay with him for as long as Jesper would have him.

The door opened, and Jesper walked in. His expression was grim.

Wylan’s stomach flipped. “What’s wrong?”

“The plan is back on track,” he said. “Kaz wants to meet with us all in a few days. But…” He sat down on the couch, his gaze still dark and somehow angry.

Wylan sat next to him. “Did something happen?”

“I was followed for a while. I lost him in the Barrel, but I asked Kaz about it. He confirmed that people have been asking about your whereabouts. People… who work for Van Eck.”

A cold chill settled over Wylan. He wrapped his arms around himself, even though it was Jesper’s warmth he wanted instead. “I knew it was only a matter of time before he’d find me. I couldn’t stay hidden forever.”

“I’ll protect you, Wy.”

He blinked.

Determination burned in Jesper’s gaze. “I won’t let him touch a hair on your head. You’re safe with me—err, well until we have to leave, because then none of us will be safe, but when it comes to _him_ , I’ll make sure he doesn’t get near you.”

Wylan laughed weakly. “Thanks.”

He wasn’t alone anymore. And… maybe he didn’t have to give in without a fight. He didn’t have to hide. He could find a way to live in safety… couldn’t he?

They sat together in silence for a few minutes.

“Argh!” Jesper’s shout shattered the stillness and made Wylan jump. “Why does he _care_? Why can’t he just leave you alone?”

“My father?” Wylan asked. His heart twisted. “You know why.”

“No I _don’t_ know why.” Jesper threw his hands up in the air. “Okay, so for whatever awful reason, he decided he didn’t want you as his son anymore and decided to erase you. Fine. He’s horrible and you deserve better, but I get it. I don’t understand, but I ‘understand.’”

Wylan knew that feeling. Even though he understood his father’s motivations, part of him still cried out wanting to know why he couldn’t be loved.

“But now you’re here,” Jesper said. “You’re in the Barrel. You’re Wylan Hendriks. You’re gone from his life, so why does he care enough to look for you? Why send letters taunting you? Why try to kill you when you want nothing to do with him anymore?”

“Because it’s not that simple,” Wylan said.

“How so?”

“You know who I am,” he said. “Kaz knows. The others know.”

“So what?”

Why did it seem like Jesper never understood the most logical things about Wylan’s situation? “Because other people might learn who I am. Then they might find out about… the other thing, just like you did. A couple slip-ups and people would know that the Van Eck family produced an—”

Jesper silenced him with a kiss.


	17. Chapter 17

Wylan froze, his bitter tirade and the cruel word he’d been about to say trapped beneath Jesper’s lips. His whole body ignited. When the other boy pulled away far too soon, his lips were still tingling. He leaned forward almost involuntarily, wanting more.

“An amazing chemist?” Jesper suggested, finishing the sentence for him. “An incredible artist? An outstanding musician?”

“Jesper…”

“I suppose someone like him _wouldn’t_ want people to know, would he?” Jesper’s gaze burned into Wylan, his gray eyes alight with emotion. “He’s a monster. How could the Van Eck family produce an honest, generous, kind—”

“Jesper, I get it, you don’t have to—”

“— _wonderful_ person like you?”

Wylan blushed and looked away. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to address first, the compliments or the fact that Jesper had literally kissed him into silence. His heart was hammering so hard he could barely breathe. It had really happened. He wanted to kiss Jesper again. Immediately. As soon as possible.

“I can’t stand hearing you put yourself down,” Jesper said softly.

“I know. I’ll try to stop.”

“Why?” An angry note entered the other boy’s voice. “Because I don’t like it?”

Startled, Wylan looked up at him.

“You should respect yourself for your own sake, not for mine!” With a sigh, Jesper rubbed his head. His voice softened again. “Look, Wy… if… if you need to say those things, you can talk to me. Bottling it all up inside is probably worse. But I don’t want you to think that way anymore. It doesn’t matter if you can’t read. I want you to see your own worth.”

“I… I’ll try.”

It felt unnatural. Yet he was the sort of person someone as wonderful as Jesper wanted to kiss. That had to mean something.

“Worst of all,” Jesper said, “you probably think I’m a great guy for saying things like that.”

“You are.”

He shook his head. “Not for treating you the way you deserve to be treated. Not for seeing who you really are. Praise me for anything you want, Wy, but not for that.”

Wylan frowned.

“I kissed you because I’ve been dying to for a long time now,” Jesper said. “I want to kiss you again. I want to be with you. But… please don’t settle for me just because I’m kind to you.”

Settle?

“You’ll be great someday. You deserve all the happiness in the world. And as much as I want you, you deserve a whole lot better than being stuck in a place like this with someone who—”

Wylan closed the gap between them and brought his lips to Jesper’s in an attempt to repeat what he’d done earlier.

He missed and only caught half of the other boy’s mouth, but he fell silent anyway.

“Someone I care about?” Wylan asked. “Someone who makes me feel safe? Someone who can always bring a smile to my face?” He knew how Jesper meant it, but he couldn’t help but turn it around anyway for his next question. “Are you saying I don’t deserve to be with someone who makes me happy?”

“What—no, I’m not saying that at all!” Jesper furrowed his brow. “I’m saying there are people out there who could make you a lot happier than I could.”

“If you believe that,” Wylan said, “then you don’t know how happy I’ve been these past few weeks. For the first time in my life, I really know what I want.” He took a deep breath and reached up hesitantly to touch Jesper’s cheek. “I… love you, Jesper.”

Jesper’s eyes widened. Then he tugged him closer for a firm, crushing kiss. All of Wylan’s pent-up desire from their weeks together exploded, and he wrapped his arms around Jesper and kissed him back.

Maybe he did deserve happiness. Then he wouldn’t hide what he wanted anymore.

He kissed Jesper with all the passion burning inside him despite the blush rushing to his cheeks, and as Jesper returned it with just as much intensity, he wanted the moment to last forever.

#

Jesper savored the sweet taste of Wylan’s lips and the dizzying feel of his body pressed against him. He kissed him again and then looked into his eyes. He dimly remembered that he was supposed to be furious at Wylan’s father for wanting him dead, or upset with Wylan for accepting it as a matter of course, but all he could focus on was how this had somehow changed into kissing.

But… they hadn’t actually talked about it. Everything happened so fast, they never got around to having that conversation.

He pulled back slightly. “I forgot to ask if you wanted to kiss me.”

The corner of Wylan’s lips twitched into an amused smile. “Isn’t it a little late for that _now_?”

“Still, though.” Jesper smoothed his hair back from his face. “I’m sorry.”

Wylan’s cheeks turned pink, explained a moment later when he said, “I can think of a way for you to make it up to me.”

Jesper smirked. “Oh?”

The touch was almost hesitant as Wylan slipped his hands over Jesper’s shoulders and onto his back. Then he clutched his shirt and leaned in for another kiss.

There was something warmly endearing about his inexperienced kisses—a nervous enthusiasm that told Jesper in more than words that Wylan wanted to please him and was trying to open up to him.

Restraining himself was difficult, but Jesper managed to keep from losing himself completely in Wylan’s touch. “Does that mean you’ll give me an answer?”

“Isn’t this obvious enough?”

He grinned, but resisted the urge to keep kissing Wylan and forget everything else. This was too important. “I don’t just mean about the kiss. I mean about… us.” He swallowed hard, his mouth dry. “I really want to try, Wy. Maybe you don’t want to be with someone like me—”

“Don’t even say it,” Wylan whispered. “I wish I was good enough for you.”

“You are,” Jesper said. He reached up and cupped Wylan’s face. “Saints, merchling, I had my doubts about you when we first met, but I was wrong. Being with someone like you, well, most guys can only dream of being that lucky.”

Wylan blushed.

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but I want to try. I never thought I’d really fall in love, but I’m head over heels for you, merchling.”

“So it really doesn’t matter to you that I’m… that I can’t…”

“You’re far more than your ability to read,” Jesper said firmly. If nothing else, he wanted to make sure this got through. “It doesn’t matter at all to me that you can’t read, and if there’s anything I can do to help you, I will.”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” Wylan said. “I’ll make up for it, I swear.”

Jesper’s heart ached. “You’re not a burden. Don’t ever think that.” An idea occurred to him, and he smirked. “However, if you insist on compensating me when I read to you, I’ll gladly accept payment in kisses.”

“That wouldn’t make up for it.”

“You want to give me even _more_?” Jesper let his gaze sweep across Wylan in a way that should make it clear he didn’t mean monetary payment.

Wylan suddenly kissed him hard, with a fierceness he wasn’t expecting.

“Wylan?”

“I want you, Jesper,” he said breathlessly, his gaze burning with passion and something else that was harder to interpret. “I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t want to lie. I want to be who I am. I want—I want—”

His words were jumbled, and it wasn’t clear if he meant he didn’t want to hide his feelings for Jesper or that he didn’t want to hide his inability to read. Maybe both. Jesper kissed him again. “You don’t have to lie or pretend with me.”

Wylan kissed him again.

This time, Jesper didn’t hold back.

Time faded into a beautiful bliss that kept shocking him with the sheer enormity that this was _Wylan_ pressed against him, Wylan’s skin under his hands and lips, Wylan’s own hands and mouth on him; all the chaotic events that brought them together had finally coalesced into something he never knew he needed but wouldn’t give up for anything in the world.

At last they relaxed in each other’s arms, cuddling like they had so many times, but this time with Wylan actually running his fingers along Jesper’s shoulders and back instead of just lying still like it was an accident.

Jesper closed his eyes. Normally he would want to be active, moving, up and about—but not right now. As long as he had Wylan in his arms, he felt like he could stay there forever.

“Jesper?” Wylan said at last.

“Yes, merchling?”

The other boy straightened up with a sigh. “I’ve been thinking.”

This sounded serious. Jesper met his gaze and braced himself as new anxieties and worries fluttered through him. “What is it?”

Wylan took a deep breath. “I need to tell Kaz the truth.”


	18. Chapter 18

Wylan’s statement hung in the air between them.

Saying it out loud made it sound even scarier than when it was just a thought in his head. He took a breath and tried not to think too hard about admitting to another person—and of all people, _Kaz_ —that his father had discarded him because he couldn’t read.

“You don’t have to tell him,” Jesper said.

“Yes I do.” Wylan squeezed his eyes shut. “Kaz thinks I’m useful as a hostage.”

“Are you afraid he’ll hurt you?”

“No, I—” He paused to slowly exhale. A deep fear had been growing in him ever since he started to care about Jesper, a fear born out of what it truly meant to have his role on the team be _hostage_. “I can’t have Kaz thinking I’m some sort of insurance, Jesper. What if he tries to use me as protection for all of you?” He opened his eyes and looked at the person who had become more important to him than anyone else in the world. “My father could kill you if Kaz tries to use me as your shield.”

“Hah,” Jesper said with mock bravado, “I wouldn’t go down that easily.”

Wylan couldn’t joke about something like this. “I can’t risk it, Jesper. You could die because of me. And why? Because I’m ashamed of myself?” He looked away. “I’d rather Kaz know I’m a moron than risk losing you.”

“You’re _not_ a moron.”

He managed a weak smile. “Then I’d rather him think I am than risk losing you.”

Jesper reached up and stroked the side of his face gently, his touch gentle and reassuring. “But what if…” He lowered his gaze. “What if Kaz doesn’t want you to be part of the team if you can’t be his hostage? What if he wants someone else for demo work?”

That had occurred to Wylan too.

At first, he’d told himself it was okay to lie for a little while longer, to make sure he got to go with them and stay by Jesper’s side. Then he realized how easily that could slip away from him. Putting someone he loved at risk even for a little while was unacceptable.

“Then I’ll stay here and wait for you,” he whispered.

He wouldn’t be happy about Jesper going off into danger while he remained behind in the Barrel alone, but it was better than putting him in greater danger through a lie. He’d tell himself every day that Jesper would return to him safely and look forward to the day it would finally happen.

“Wylan….” Jesper drew him close and kissed him.

It still sent a thrill through him. Wylan kissed him back and ran his fingers along Jesper’s shoulders. For so long, he’d kept his desires bottled up inside, but they’d finally crossed that gap—kissing him was something that could simply _happen_ now. That gave him all the more motivation to protect what they had.

“I understand,” Jesper said. “No matter what happens, I love you, merchling.”

Those words might never stop giving him a thrill either. “I probably should talk to Kaz soon,” Wylan said, although he didn’t want to move from Jesper’s arms.

“Yeah.” Jesper gazed into his eyes. “Soon. But for now, stay with me.”

#

“Good,” Kaz said, without giving Wylan a chance to even explain why he was there. “I assume you’ve made progress.”

“What? Um, yes.” Wylan was so geared up for the necessary confession that it threw him off-balance to suddenly be reminded of the work he’d been doing for Kaz. “I’ve improved the design of the acid containers, and I have the supplies I’ll need for the bombs. I’ve been working on a few sedatives, although I’ll still need to test them.” He’d also thought up additional ideas that might help, but he managed to keep his mouth shut. Kaz probably had no interest in hearing his ideas, and that wasn’t why he was there anyway.

Kaz gave him a critical look. “That’s the same message you sent with Jesper. Why are you here?”

This was it. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

Standing there alone in front of Kaz made Wylan feel small and insignificant, and the other boy’s cold stare didn’t help. Jesper had offered to go with him, but he refused. As much as he wanted the support of someone who cared about him, he didn’t want to always depend on Jesper. There were times when he needed to stand on his own two feet and face whatever happened himself, and this was one of them.

“I can’t be your hostage.” He spoke quickly, to get it over with. “My father considers me a disappointment because I… because I”—his cheeks burned and he averted his gaze to stare at the wall beyond Kaz instead—“can’t read. I can’t read, I’ve never been able to learn how, and that means I can’t be his heir. He already tried to kill me once, so any leverage you think you’ll have because of me doesn’t exist.”

There. He’d said it. He finally dared to look at Kaz again.

Kaz was frowning. “I see. Then we’ll need another backup plan.”

Wylan breathed. That wasn’t as bad as he expected. For one thing, Kaz wasn’t laughing at him. He still felt sick and shaky, but at least the worst part was over. All that remained was to find out the consequences.

“Get back to work on those things we discussed,” Kaz said. “We’ve wasted enough time.”

Wylan wet his lips. “Um… am I still part of the Ice Court job?”

Kaz gave him a flat look. “Do you really think I’d let you back out now, Van Eck? I intend to collect on everything you promised.” His eyes narrowed. “You owe me extra now that I can’t use you as a hostage.”

Despite everything, Wylan couldn’t help but smile. “Right, yes, I understand!”

On one hand, he was essentially painting a target on his back. Joining a group of criminals for a dangerous heist that would bring them into contact with his father sooner or later was the opposite of avoiding his father’s attention. On the other hand, he’d get to be with Jesper, stay by his side, help and protect him as much as he could.

And apparently he’d proven his worth beyond being a hostage.

Kaz Brekker, who measured everything in terms of gain, knew he couldn’t read and was useless as a hostage, yet saw him as a valuable asset. While Jesper might lie to be kind, Kaz never minced words. Wylan had no doubt Kaz would call him an idiot to his face if that was what he thought.

“What are you standing there grinning for?” Kaz asked sharply. “You’re wasting time.”

“Sorry!” Wylan cleared his throat. “Actually, um… I had some other ideas, too.”

#

Jesper paced, more anxious by the minute. He almost wished someone would try to rob him so he’d at least have something to do. He shouldn’t have let Wylan go alone.

He didn’t think Wylan was in any physical danger; while he’d lied to Kaz, it wasn’t the sort of lie that the other boy would see as a betrayal. But Kaz didn’t have a shred of compassion in his heart, so sending Wylan in to confess his secrets felt a bit like throwing the boy he loved to the wolves.

He couldn’t decide what outcome to hope for, either. He wanted to be alongside Wylan for as long as possible, but he didn’t want Wylan to be in danger. Part of him liked the idea of Wylan staying behind—although he wouldn’t exactly be safe in the Barrel, and Jesper wouldn’t be there to watch over him.

Whatever Wylan wanted, that had to be good enough. Whatever brought a smile to his face.

So Jesper paced and waited and paced some more, until at last Wylan emerged.

He was smiling.

Jesper’s heart leaped, and he ran over to him. “What happened?”

“I’m in,” Wylan said.

“It went well?”

“Yeah.” He beamed. “He… he didn’t seem to even care—I mean, he definitely cared about me not working as a hostage, but… not about the other part.”

Jesper tousled his hair, then pulled back to put his hands on his hips. “Hmm, should I be jealous?” he asked with mock suspicion. “I thought I was the only one who could make you smile like that.”

Wylan laughed. “Trust me, Kaz is _not_ my type.”

“Oh? Then what is your type, merchling?”

He expected Wylan to blush and avoid the question, but while he definitely got a delightful blush, he also got an answer. “My type? Hmm… I suppose I favor the tall, dark, and handsome type.”

Jesper snickered and turned so they could walk back home together. “Anything else?”

“Charming, too.” Wylan fell in alongside him. “My type knows how to make me laugh, and he always has just the right thing to say when I’m feeling sad.”

“That definitely leaves Kaz out.”

“Definitely. Like I said, not my type.”

“I bet your type is quite the flirt, too.”

“Of course. He loves to make me blush.”

Jesper smirked. What he wouldn’t give to keep this boy happy and blushing forever. “He probably knows just how to touch you the way you like.”

As he’d hoped, Wylan blushed scarlet. “He… He has many talents.”

If only he could buy him a nice present to show how much he cared, maybe if he hit it big on Makker’s Wheel—Jesper realized where his thoughts were going and stopped walking with a sigh. “And many problems.”

Saints, this wasn’t fair. He had Wylan; that should be enough. Things were finally starting to look up, so why did he have to—

Wylan’s hand on his shoulder pulled him from his troubled thoughts. “My type, well, he isn’t perfect, but no one is. There are things he struggles with. But he’s always there to help me when I’m at my weakest, so I’ll do whatever I can to help him, too.”

The sweet sincerity in his words pierced through the shame. “Wylan…”

“I love you.” Wylan looked up into his eyes. “If you want me to talk to you when I need to, I want you to do the same.”

“I will.” What had he done to be blessed with someone like this? Jesper tugged Wylan close for a kiss.

A strangled protest came from Wylan. “Jesper! Right out here where people can see?”

Sometimes he forgot how shy his merchling was. Jesper pulled back with a sigh. “No?”

Wylan looked around at the people nearby, his cheeks pink with a deep blush, but then a determined glint sparked in his eyes. He put his hands on Jesper’s shoulders and stretched up onto his tiptoes to reach his lips. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And after all this time, that brings us to the end! I hope you enjoyed these two stories, and I hope they brought you some happiness during these days of quarantines and lockdowns.


End file.
